Alysanne

Sleepless and restless Alysanne’s night felt doomed to be so she had decided to abandon her sleeping spot, where the grass had grown particularly well with the help of her magic, the soft blades tickling at her knees. Hemlock had had no such trouble, the babe still finding sleep within moments and not relinquishing it until something made him - such as his stomach or his bonded. He remained where he was, nestled amongst her feathers of her wings as she cradled him with each step - growing used to the careful movements so that she barely even needed to think about it anymore.

He was growing - he knew when to hold on and when he could wander about safely. And he was learning to fly! Little bit at a time but gradually those fuzzy down feathers would be replaced by sleek grey and her little Hemlock wouldn’t be quite so little anymore.

Well, relatively speaking. From the size he was now, it did not appear that he would be growing much bigger!

Without him to keep her company, Alysanne’s mind raced and soon her body was itching to do the same. Flying just did not give her the same thrill as a good run did - and after waking her companion and giving him fair warning, the painted mare stretched her legs as she followed the coast of Helovia - down from where the cliffs gave way to beach, down to where the summer sea lapped lazily at the sand.

In the faint light of the moon, it felt as though there was a new world buzzing about her - fireflies blinked in the bushes and grasses that began where sand turned into soil, the hum of the night life all around her. In the midst of her joy, a figure ahead on the beach added itself to this moonlit world. And it was no small delight that she noticed as she approached that she recognized that figure. Voodoo! His name called out in her mind but not with her mouth as it would seem wrong to call out to him on such a quiet night, to interrupt the peace of the summer night. But she went toward him all the same, slowing her pace to a trot before the pale pegasus danced to a stop nearby. “Good evening, Voodoo! It’s so good to see you again.” Warmth and sincerity in each syllable - moving to bump her nose to his in greeting (though watchful for any sign such a movement would be unwelcome). She would respect his space but it would not lessen her joy at seeing him again. Hemlock, for his part, stayed buried beneath the feathers of her folded wings - black eyes peering out distrustfully at this new stranger.

A quick glance with Alysanne’s summer-green eyes was enough to realize the delightful little fox she had met in the caves was not nearby. “Where is little Ouija? You are both well, I hope?”


@[Voodoo]