Despite the lack of words ushered between them, there are the subtle shifts of emotions and thoughts dancing within. Ru is finding that she is not a very good interpreter of what may lie behind the young stallion’s cool expression, or the myriad of hints interlaced with the shuffling of his feathers, or the steady gaze he takes when she is trying her best to communicate. As if he is searching for something, unfound and not yet discovered, hovering above them like a tight cord pulled between one another. As she stood there, waiting for his response after the shove of her wing, she swore she could feel its tension reach its threshold – about to snap.

Adults lived in another world, or so the young one assumed. Their life was not played out with the freedom of the heart. There were things out there that tied one down, ideals and obligations perhaps, that made the yoke of life a burden with its sways of ups and downs. Though, through the eyes of a child – a budding youth, perhaps it did not seem so foreign now. At first it all seemed so simple, and Ru was content with the simplicities of life, because she was free to do as she wished. Without consequence, without remorse, there was no need to please or seek approval. She knew she had her mother’s love, and she would be forever rewarded by that grace. It seemed as though it would never end, its flow uninterrupted by a scold, a warning. But as mother’s love wilted in the harsh winter winds of Helovia, the security that came with that love ebbed farther and farther away.

She held her breath without realizing it, as his head swayed away. Her ears twitched back as her muscles coiled, and her limbs resisted the urge to tremble. And yet, she was eager to know, to seek the impossible chance that somehow he would lead her back to her family. Would any other child think otherwise? She had all but her memories, and the growing void that threatened to ensnare the joy from her spirit. A single ray, a drop of water – a crack in the stone, she would take any chance to return home. His answer was strange though; his voice was heavy, and hinting at the terrible feeling locked away inside his own body, to breech the silence in the tune of a single bell. Dulled from its chime, and softened against the walls.

Ru wasn’t entirely sure how she should respond, nonetheless what she thought of his answer. She had never considered what it would be like to not have the ability to fly. To reach the skies and kiss the stars, to be consumed by the wind, feeling the pull and grasp of the air streaming down her wings. She sucked in the air, resuming her breath with a small nod. Why had she asked in the first place…? She wasn’t entirely sure anymore. And it made her uncomfortable, and then she thought – it wasn’t all that bad, was it? They were alive, weren’t they? The flicka forced herself a few steps forwards, and offered a gentle nudge to his shoulder. She wasn’t sure if he would notice the effort or not, because she suddenly seemed to recall he might not like the physical contact. So the girl ducked her head and moved away. A nervous air following her movements, suddenly fearful that she might drive him away all together.

But then a simple idea grasped the simple girl’s mind. Keeping a distance between them, the light frown upon her features bloomed into a soft smile across her face. She nickered towards him, a soft hum briefly escaping her voice – an attempt to wrestle with his attention and bring his focus to her. She bobbed her head inwards, further into the cave, and tilted her head. She only allotted a few seconds before she started further in, only a few steps ahead before she stopped. Turning her face back upon him, and giving a soft, trilling roll.