In a sense, Ryatah is fortunate for all that remains to haunt her to this day.
He’s been standing there for quite some time, just observing anything that crosses his path. Now, he grows more contemplative as the light of day fades, taking its bright blues and greens so that the setting sun can repaint the sky in rich reds, oranges, and purples. The dramatic beauty of the sunset is not lost to him, but it reminds him that he’s never taken the time to enjoy these kinds of moments before.
In fact, he’d never appreciated much of anything before and is left with black, yawning voids that have swallowed much of his past. His connections to others had been tenuous, at best, and names and faces do not come to him as easily as they do to Ryatah.
He hears her long before he sees her. She is quiet, but not enough to evade the finely tuned senses he’d developed during his time as a herd leader. The immediate tension in his muscles is an automatic response, but he makes no effort to find the approaching traveler, since he cannot detect any ill-will in the sound of her steps.
Surprise wells in his core when she finally appears further along the path he’s been standing, sentry-like, at for so long. He’s not sure why he continues to be taken aback by the looks of those that he has come across since returning. Normal seems to have been tossed to the wayside, even his own after his encounter with the sprites. But even without her otherworldly appearance, there is something different about her, something he cannot pull into tangibility.
The salutation is ordinary enough, but she elicits a dry laugh from him with her next statement.
“Well, that’s no shock to me. I’ve only met a handful of others, and there do not seem to be many, if any, that would remember me from before.”
And why would there be? He had certainly made no attempts to be noteworthy in any way. But there is no bitterness in his voice, only a vague emptiness mirroring the barren landscape of his memories.
He presses on with his introduction, still wondering why this demure mare creates such a meaningful impression on him.
“I’m Assailant and I was born here in Beqanna. You might say I’m from the Chamber, but I never felt any loyalty to it even though my herdland was part of its kingdom.”
“You seem to know the place well. Have you been here long….?”
He leaves a long pause at the end of his question, a wordless request for the name of the lovely creature before him.
@Ryatah