She had heard them all talk, and introduce their homelands, but Alayaya’s preoccupation with the people in front of her made the names of strange and distant places hard to retain. She had spent no time imagining the countries they named. They might have said they were from Heaven, or from the tiny rabbit hole three miles east, or from Vegas. It would have all meant the same to her as the names of the Hidden Falls, The World’s Edge or Aurora Basin. It was not that she was too young to care, for she was certainly capable of directing herself to somewhere – carefree and fidgety as she appeared to them, it was easy to overlook that she had found her way here, but she had done so on her own. There was little in her manner or her conversation today to suggest that she had any future planned beyond the romp in the flowers she had embarked on today.
When Aeolus spoke she spun around again to face him in a swirling white-gold motion. She landed squarely in front of him and put his green eyes in her wide, vast, bright blue ones. Her posture and her features were branded with the earnest contrition that only children, innocent vessels of their emotions, can display so convincingly. “Aeolus is a nice name.” She said this gently, with seriousness cradled in the soft lilt of her voice. She meant it to be apology and encouragement together. She was a flippant and flighty creature out of habit but she liked Aeolus. She liked his openness and his calm. She liked his pretty wings. Perhaps she made a sudden judgement that he would play with her even if she were rude sometimes, because the contrition melted away from her almost instantly after that, like it were a thin silk veil that could only stay still for so long in the shifting winds of her vibrant energy. Her next words were delivered with the authority that children who are rarely denied their wants tend to learn; ”We’re going to play tag later.” She certainly looked the part of bossy, lifting her head in a haughty and overly dramatized poise as she spoke and nodding her head brusquely as she finished, as though agreeing with the choice she just made for them both.
With that decided, she let Rexanna’s voice call her back to the adult gathering that was taking place. Instinctively, or perhaps more rightly intuitively, Alayaya was drawn to Rexanna. She held for her an instant, deep, almost spiritual fascination. While she was speaking Alayaya’s eyes pored over her figure, as though she had never seen a shoulder, a foot or a hock before. She studied the golden-bodied mare through the filter of her unencumbered, unreserved innocence. Alayaya seemed to ponder the questions, tilting her head to one side and pursing her lips, the tiny crease of a frown playing between her eyes. She thrust out a hip, and blew a stray strand of golden mane from her eyes. The energy of her, the force that was so uncontained a few seconds ago, had fallen almost seamlessly dormant beneath the shine and sun-kissed surface of her. It was wrapped in this singular attention she paid Rexanna.
“I don’t know what I’m looking for.” she said, looking puzzled. ”I’m just… looking.” She flashed a sweetly unabashed smile at the golden mare. “I like to make new friends” she added, eager to please, “And I’m very good company.” To the first question she finally paid heed as well. “People call me Alayaya”. What a strange way for a child to introduce themselves, isn't it? People call me not My name is. And who, exactly, calls her that when she is plainly alone?
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[Open] Demain, dès l’aube, je partirai.
