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She had not been a part of a herd in some time, and her status as a loner had suited her well. Recently, however, she had found herself contemplating a life within a herd once more. It was a constant debate. If she were in a herd, would she be expected to spend most of her time within the herdlands? But would that be so bad, particularly if she did something useful for her herd? But what would she even do? She would think of something. But she had no special talent: she could not fight, she could not heal, she could not create. She could fly, but she was sure that there were plenty around that could do that. What use would she be to a herd? Would they even accept one as untalented as she? Rowan inquired about her location, and she smiled. At least she would have one friend who would care about where she was. "I haven't put down roots anywhere just yet," she admitted, not even noticing the reference to the trees again. "I haven't decided if I want to join a herd. I've stayed on my own for so long that I'm not sure I would assimilate well." Her words were jovial, but there was a seriousness in her eyes, showing the truth of her statement beyond the joke. The other mare's friendly nip at her forelock reassured her slightly; perhaps if she could make more friends like Rowan, she wouldn't do so badly in a herd after all. [W/C | 255] |
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the Rift
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Unnecessary Words [Sohalia]
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