Leonidas, much to Lilliana's dismay, never hides his shine. He gleams and glows; beams and burns as bright on this beach as he might in the twinkling sky above them. It was their language, he once told the chestnut. That was how stars communicated (at least in his universe) with their brothers and sisters, to the fervent souls who prayed and believed and wished in the mortal worlds below. (To know a star's shine is to know his soul, he had told his companion on one of their earliest nights together. Nothing can hide in our light.)
The Guardian flashes a lookup to the glowing orb, wishing once again that he wouldn't glow quite so brightly. But the young star is paying no attention to his bonded. He dances on the salt air - up and down a few times - before slowly drawing near the shape: @[Borderline]. Lilliana lifts her head to better see the pale mare and her vision adjusts to see the small mare revealed in the silver-blue starlight. She nods at the sound of her name, a confirmation that the willowy silhouette (that had been wind galloping down this beach) was indeed her.
She looks to the other Taigan while attempting to keep an eye on Leonidas, who has floated over Borderline and off to her side. He hovers and his glow turns blue, a shade similar to the mane and tail of the other mare. Look, he thinks, curious about his new discovery. What he reveals is a smaller shape, a smaller shadow that draws in the remainder of Lilliana's focus. The star illuminates the flaxen mane of the filly, her sprouting horns, and a chestnut coloring that favors her own. Her heart catches in throat, unable to be contained while the exertion of her sprint is still burning in her lungs. The little girl looks so much like Yanhua that she can't help but smile, help the look of adoration that replaces the concern she had for Leonidas' antics just moments before.
"Oh," she murmurs softly, almost inaudible in a voice already turning tender with love.
Like she had done with her two other grandchildren, Lilliana lowers her refined head in hopes that her granddaughter might come closer while glancing up at her mother. The flame-marked mare knows why she is out here; why she comes here night after night. Leonidas and his luminous energy would keep her children awake when they should be sleeping. (And if she's honest, she still doesn't know how to explain him yet. To do that would be to reveal more about her past than she ever has before.) Her expression grows worried for the pair because what else would wake them at this late hour?
"Is everything alright?"
Remember when our songs were just like prayers
Like gospel hymns that you caught in the air?
but it's all in the past, love
it's all gone with the wind