There was fascination in how he moved and one that forced her to watch every step, how the bones stuck through and across the skin: how the slow presence of blood glimmered on his darker form. She could not find reference for it in her small mind, her few memories: and she found herself blinking with wide hazel-green eyes and ears perked up and slightly forward. At his beckoning she follows and yet, her desire to wander also finds its way: periodically darting through brush and briars, and the thick nettles and tangles of ivy. Briella’s wonder is endless, boundless, and so much so that there is moment where she stops because of a strangely colored object on a tree. Earthy in scent and yet musky in a way, she does not recognize the color nor the pattern of the puffballs skin and is almost shocked to find that it is softer and almost fleshy.
Timid, yet sure, she allows the weanling teeth to bite into it and finds a strange texture on her tongue- a woody and unknown taste. Content to try again she keeps at it, paused and nibbling away until the sound of Dovev’s footsteps have stopped. Blinking at some touch or remark she looks up with a smile and bits of the fungi still on her nose. Yet there is not a long time between and so she moves on, nipping clover here and there and periodically spitting out plants she dislikes: particularly the tall, rubbery grass that smells of astringent and sharp onions.
She dislikes this the most.
Forest, however, is not a permanent thing and over the course of their steps she watches as grass becomes more present and slowly the trees less so. Ocean and sand too, blend the soil and Briella sees jagged cliffs a distance away: hears the gulls and birds, smells the salt. She jumps, kicks, and charges forward through the wild and tall reaches of the grass- to where she can see the glittering sun atop the waves and to where her body is able to poke over the grass.
“Water!” she cries out, a word she know but not one she could elaborate on. The sun is warm, even for autumn, and as they wander deeper into Nerine she rushes to the shores and places where the tide has let out. Rocks create pools and she finds herself stuck nose-deep into the salty water.
Just as he’d met her, she sputters and snorts- scowls and dislikes the salty taste. “No!” she states at the tide pool, noting the sudden bizarre reflectiveness of the water and the reflection of herself. She sees her flaxen-blonde hair, the puffy curls and baby soft look: the darker fur on her skin and all the features she was presented.
Dovev speaks to another, and she does not look immediately, rather she focuses on the moving star and the strange creatures. As the adult keep talking, she nips and sniffs: dunks her head again before turning her head to see the stallion slipping away. Briella worries, frets and fidgets, but more so because she feels a strange weight on her face… the starfish having curled onto her face and begun to remain sitting.
To Heartfire she wanders, looking up at her quixotically with those deer-like hazel green eyes and the brilliant orange starfish stuck to her face. “Not-Pell, not-Dovev… hi,” she states, not knowing many words, her tiny ears splaying and swiveling. “Who?” question and curiosity.
@[Heartfire] & @[Dovev] I timed to when he was leaving to go kill Rhonen/help in the mess and had dropped her off with Heart.