i am a leaf on the wind

Perhaps she should harbor some hatred for those not of her kind. Perhaps the lure of the Throat, a place almost exclusively for Pegasi, should have called to her. But in the end, she didn’t blame an entire race for what a select few had done to her family. Done to her, if she thought about it, but unlike her family Lyanna was alive and well. She couldn’t pity herself, as much as she sometimes wished to.

How very similar their lives are, not that either of them knows it. These two strangers in the snow.

The mare seems to tuck the egg closer to herself, protecting it from the unknown horse and potential threat. Lyanna doesn’t take it as a personal insult (though perhaps she should), but rather assumes this is the logical thing. Lyanna is, in fact, a stranger, and currently in the better position for defending or attacking, as the case may be. Though she has neither thing in mind.

Corbin taught her to fight, yes, but that did not make her a warrior. In the end, she was too kind, too naïve in some ways. In the back of her mind, she knows the truth of the world, but in the way she lives, she hardly acts like it. Likely, this would bite her in the ass someday. But then again, could it be worse than losing her family and her home? Not likely. Dying wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to her, not anymore.

The other mare stands, and though Lyanna thinks that perhaps the smile is forced, she isn’t sure. And besides, she did just interrupt what looks like something of a private moment, having foolishly rushed in to help someone that did not need help. Foolish as well because really, what was Lyanna going to do? She was not remarkably skilled in battle without the aid of the wind, and she no longer has that ability. Not that she was ever remarkably skilled even with it, but at least then, she stood a chance.

“Clearly, I was worried over nothing.” she says with a bit of a sheepish grin. You’re going to get yourself killed, Lyanna. her brother’s voice rings in her head, pride mingled with the reprimand. Yes, she probably was. Maybe that’s what she’s angling for. It’s hard to start over, and she feels like she’s failing every day. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” She adds in response to the other mare’s name, storing it away for later as she always done.

Then the mare asks about flying in the cold. She laughs slightly, a pleasant, easy sounds. “No worse than lying in the snow, I imagine.” Her grin is slightly playful now, doing her best to offer some sort of olive branch here. And in some way deflecting the truth of the question, that she has nowhere else to go and nothing else to do. Helovia is not home, and it is does not feel like home. She’s trying, but in the end, the only place that she feels like she belongs is in the sky. But that, of course, is not a conversation for perfect stranger.

“Is it your egg?” She asks, trying to further the conversation, feeling like always like perhaps she should just go. She doesn’t belong here. But yet, here she is, and here she’ll stay.

watch how i soar.

lyanna