[open] you had your maps drawn

[aletta]

It's been some time since she has felt this much at ease with another.

Maybe she has spent too much time in her own company but she has a hard time recalling the last time she has conversed with someone as easily as she does Mesec. You're getting soft in your old age, she chides herself. What would Beyond say if they knew that their Iron Mare of the Mountains had taken to smiling and laughing so readily?

One of his silver wings reaches out to brush gently against her and Aletta smiles. Her dark eyes linger on the wing, a touch of envy there. She had been named for those creatures of the sky. It had been something that the gray mare had meant to ask her own mother - why she would name a pale, wingless girl after the very things she lacked. (Aletta never got the chance to ask why her name meant 'winged one'. She never got to learn that her dam wished for her the very life that Aletta has lead - that would she would fly far and roam wide.)

She listens to Mesec as they walk. An ear stays with him as her gaze focuses on the trail ahead and where it might lead. The eventual destination still hasn't revealed itself yet and Aletta doesn't mind; she focuses on the path ahead with the familiar thrill of what they may find. The horned stallion confides in her that there is no purpose in his wandering. (And it makes the silver mare wonder if his lack of a course was because he was still searching for an answer.) "Maybe you'll find it there," Aletta adds. She knows nothing of Loess but she genuinely hopes that it offers something for her traveling companion.

Their conversation shifts to children and the expression on her face changes with their discussion. She is a mother to five (and then one not her own, a child orphaned by war). The pegasus mentions how his children grew restless as they grew older. "That can be a journey in itself," she admits softly. It had been hard for her as a parent to set boundaries for herself (already a hard enough thing for a wandering soul) and to allow her children the space they needed to grow. She had, though. Out of necessity for their survival, she had to.

It's the silence that lingers that makes her uncomfortable. Like Mesec, her children had grown and moved on to other things. Aletta doesn't often reflect on the things she can't change. What purpose did it serve?

But @[Mesec] talks about wanting to see what these worlds have to offer. About wanting to know what else was out there. About wanting to know about the startalkers like Keav. "You didn't have them in your Helovia or Rift?" Aletta asks, her voice light with teasing and yet brimming with her own curiosity about the places he has known. "They might be called prophets in other lands. Or perhaps Seers." It's an odd feeling to try and describe what those descended from stardust supposedly were. "The one that I knew divined futures from the stars." Aletta tried to explain that the gifts could be different; some might see futures, some might see the dreams of others, some could heal using starlight. "From the lore I heard, they were descended from a fallen star that walked among us. To learn the way we lived and loved, to feel our joys and know our tragedies."

Aletta studies Mesec, trying to read his expression. The way that their conversation has turned echoes faintly to a conversation she had with another stallion, Warden. He had doubted the stars but the gray mare knows better than most that the stars are always listening, always watching. Her experiences have taught her that there is nothing remiss about starlight; there are reasons about where and why they shine.