like a jar, you housed infinite tenderness
and infinite tenderness shattered you

Romina’s flightiness makes Yael sad; if there were anything to help bring her spirits up, it might have been a child. The girl seemed… afraid of her - of the three women - and that, too, is bizarre to the golden stranger. When had she ever been scary? To B’kanna’s newcomers, the golden pegasus was perhaps a little unusual, but rarely did she ever send anyone running for cover while in her horse form (and her days of dragon-shifting are well over).

White kind of world has she come upon? Where three small-ish, and seemingly kind mares are cause for worry? Yael watches the girl skitter away and then turns to her guides, with the first look of worry in her gaze. “Vhy ees she so scared? Vhat does she xaf to fear xere?” It is a question she is not sure she wants answered, though some part of her knows it must be, if she is to be properly prepared.  

As they begin their trek to the World’s Edge (a curious name, she thinks, and wonders what could possibly be at the end of the World that she has not seen before. Thus far, she has a mixed impression of their culture: though not amazed by their fantastic appearances, she is intrigued by the number of adornments they carry about themselves. There are clearly some who are kind and good - healers, even - and others who look kindly upon strangers. And yet there must be something that gives children cause to worry, a reason for mothers to warn them about strangers. And while a Lady (Queen?)’s daughter is a potential valuable asset to an enemy, she thinks there also might be some… less kind beings out there. As there always are.

For the most part, Yael is silent, following the pair with her head down and wings still pressed tightly to her sides. She nods to signal that she heard the Doctor’s information regarding a herd to the south, and stores it away for later. There are already too many thoughts in her head to worry about whether or not she’s found the right herd - because that means she’s considering staying. Staying means giving up. Yael can’t give up right now.

Trailing behind the pale unicorn and the black and white pegasus, Yael takes little note of her surroundings; to be honest, the trees all look the same, and the field they cross means nothing when it’s all dead and brown. Brown turns to white as they head northwest, but even the beauty and calm of the first edge of winter cannot rouse the morose newcomer. At least the snow is insulating, Yael thinks, and the trees block some of the wind. They pass through a great, black, iron gate then continue on, making her wonder just how far they must go. Not that far, apparently, before they are met by a crooning stallion, who greets Lyanna familiarly. He shimmers like she does, and the gilded mare smiles slightly at the fellow Akhal - who would not, with his greeting?

”Shalom,” she says simply. Softly. “I ahm Yael.” Her name is all she has left. It must be enough.