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Areli the flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly Ciceron reached out to nuzzle her, and Areli’s face broke into a smile at his touch. She was always glad to see him return—especially since Ilios had gone, it comforted her to know about her parents’ comings and goings. Though they were rarely all together, the girl had grown skilled at taking advantage of the time she had with each of them. While there might have been a strain in Ciceron’s and Parelia’s relationship, their daughter knew nothing about it. She was too busy basking in their affection to notice the tension at herd meetings, too enamoured with the picture of a happy family to question her father’s long patrols and her mother’s frequent journeys away from the Falls. And for the time being, ignorance was bliss, for the knowledge of her parents’ separation would have been a heavy blow to the girl indeed, dealt so soon after her beloved brother had left the proverbial nest to seek his fortune elsewhere. As her father stepped back to look at her, Areli stood tall, wondering how he would find his daughter. Over the past few seasons she had grown rapidly, and though her thick winter coat was beginning to appear, the fur was dark and smooth—so different from the fuzzy baby coat she had sported last year. At her sides, her wings rested glossy and fully-feathered, now as capable of carrying her into the sky as her mother’s. Though she had yet to grow into her lanky yearling’s body, her legs were longer and stronger, and for the first time, she didn’t have to crane her neck to meet Ciceron’s eyes as she sought his approval. A bit self-consciously, Areli wondered if he saw himself in her. Unlike Ilios, she looked so different from both her parents. While her brother married their mother’s coloration with their father’s distinctive trail of vines, the girl was plain in comparison. She didn’t have a horn—the only hint that she was Ciceron’s daughter glowed subtly along her flanks, and even the dapples would fade come winter. In truth, Areli bore more similarities to Kaj than the stallion she called her father, and for a reason that she couldn’t quite explain, it made her anxious. She knew he loved her, but would he still if she grew up to look more different from him each day? The filly hadn’t lived long enough nor spent enough time with her father to make the important comparisons—the similarities in their indomitable spirits, or the value that they both placed on family, for example. However, Areli did not have much time to dwell on these thoughts, for the possibility of a new friend was much more exciting. While Ciceron explained that they had come from the Threshold, Bee was already sidling up to the mare who introduced herself as Ryeline, intrigued by the scent of lands beyond. “Nice ta meetcha,” Areli replied, trailing the curious pup until she stood before the mare. “Were you lost too?” she asked, with an inquistive tilt of her head. Though Ryeline seemed much more composed than the frightened angel-mare or the spitfire filly she’d found in the Threshold, she had come from the place where the dazed and confused seemed to collect. “All the ones I’ve met there ’r’ lost. Is Papa helpin’ you?” "speech" |
OOC: Apologies for the wait! @Ciceron @Ryeline
![[Image: areli_by_moonstone_designs-d9dgh47.png]](http://orig05.deviantart.net/fac3/f/2015/290/f/c/areli_by_moonstone_designs-d9dgh47.png)
