so i had done wrong but you put me right
my judgement burned in the black of night
Areane has never been good at smiling and carrying on. She has always either avoided the direct gaze of another, or if she was feeling particularly bold that day, the slender pegasus would peer back, wondering if anyone was going to say anything at all. Sometimes they passed her by with nothing more than a nod, sometimes they might call a greeting, and sometimes it was Areane who broached the silence, wondering why she allowed such moments to build into knots within her slim frame.
But the world turning upside-down has been a good ice-breaker for the pegasus.
She has learned that she will either get the chance to ask her questions - if anyone knew anything more of Tephra, if they were familiar with the names of her missing family members - or she will spend all day without seeing another soul. So when the pale palomino glints against the dawn light, Areane doesn’t waste her chance. When she recognizes her, it almost stops the determined pegasus in her tracks.
"Areane,” she tells Myrna, tilting her her head to look the golden mare over once more (there is something familiar about her, something more than just recognizing her from the Mountain). She is Myrna from Hyaline, the slightly taller mare says. Or was, before the storm. Just as she had been Areane of Tephra, before the storm. Just as she had been Areane of Loess, before the ocean swallowed it whole.
The few clusters of nearby flowers begin to open their petals in a colorful array befitting the name of the territory that Areane had found herself in. She had been a dutiful daughter of the Southern kingdom; she remembered her lessons on the beautifully flower-fields just as she remembered the description of the eternally autumnal forest known as Sylva.
It is almost like her companion has more to stay, and perhaps Areane should wait longer for her to speak, but as a few moments pass, she refuses to waste more. "This is the Pampas, isn’t it?” she asks, glancing around one more time as if to confirm that fact. Her brow furrows and the crinkling causes a few of her light blue speckles to emerge from beneath her dark forelock when looks next to Myrna. "I don’t understand,” she goes on to say, "I was from Loess and everything in the South sank. Everything was gone.”
Beqanna could take and it could give and it could take and give again.
She knew that.
However, it was one thing to hear it your entire life, it was another to see it plainly before you; the stories of wars and kingdoms long gone, remembrances of the Reckoning, and even the more recent tales of when the sun stopped shining should have prepared her. But the shock was clearly apparent on her face now as she tried (struggled) to absorb that fact and the confusion grew in her amethyst eyes as the daylight grew brighter. "What is happening?”
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Viszla