An arctic gust lifts her inky dreads off of her refined nape. Not even late Spring could soften the harshness of the Isle. Jesla stands atop a barren knoll. Her jagged hooves leave no impression in the permafrost, though the film of soot is disturbed. She shifts her weight restlessly, as if impatiently waiting for the arrival of, well, anyone. Someone. Jesla yearns for more than the life she leads. She has grown bored of the quiet shufflings and cold nights. Her father had ventured beyond the protection of the icy waters. He spoke cautiously of the mainland. She has been content to heed his warning, until now. A curiosity sparks in her mint green gaze and her trademark, bronze-tipped lobes point towards the northern corner of Nerine. All she has to do is swim; swim through freezing cold, thick with chunks of ice, water. None of that sounded appealing. Not even for the promise that awaits her on the other side.
The appaloosa, with the mint-spotted blanket upon her rump, continues to watch the shoreline of her birthplace. Perhaps, she can muster the appearance of someone just by envisioning him, or her. Her mint gaze focuses, steadily, upon the welcome mat for the Isle. Occasionally, her bright orbs glance up to the sky, just in case an arrival is made upon a pair of wings. Jesla surmises that, if she had wings, she would be long gone. What else would prevent her from leaving the nest? Leilan had things under control. Jesper is home, safe and sound (not that she can really prevent him from wandering off). Her musings halt as the flutter of white wings catch her eye. She stands, enamored by the grace and power of the appendages. Unsure if all of her waiting is finally paying off, Jesla watches as, what she can only hope is, the magnificence unfolds before her.
The appaloosa, with the mint-spotted blanket upon her rump, continues to watch the shoreline of her birthplace. Perhaps, she can muster the appearance of someone just by envisioning him, or her. Her mint gaze focuses, steadily, upon the welcome mat for the Isle. Occasionally, her bright orbs glance up to the sky, just in case an arrival is made upon a pair of wings. Jesla surmises that, if she had wings, she would be long gone. What else would prevent her from leaving the nest? Leilan had things under control. Jesper is home, safe and sound (not that she can really prevent him from wandering off). Her musings halt as the flutter of white wings catch her eye. She stands, enamored by the grace and power of the appendages. Unsure if all of her waiting is finally paying off, Jesla watches as, what she can only hope is, the magnificence unfolds before her.
@[Gale]