yael

If Yael had known how she settled Serenity’s nerves and put her at ease, she might have glowed with a sense of pride unfelt for several months. Back home, she’d had that sort of effect on others; calm, graceful, and empathetic, she was always one to welcome the misfits, the broken, and the hurt with open wings and a kind smile. That didn’t change simply because she switched environments. Love is love is love is love, and Yael seems to have an endless supply of it. Right now the tap line is a little clogged, but give her a little bit more time and she’ll be spouting positive emotions left and right again. The mother nobody wanted, but everyone is going to get. The Pollyanna of Xelovia.

Gray clouds obscure the sun, so it makes sense that the star-skinned woman might be a little hesitant at which way to go. Yael doesn’t know either, but should they be heading in the wrong direction, she would be fine with that too. Pleasant company is pleasant company. A chilly wind rises, causing her to pull her black-tipped feathers closer. At times like this, her gold wing band tends to get a bit chilly, and Yael really has half a mind to take it off for the rest of winter. But it was a gift from the Turtle, so she will not complain (too much). Her mane lifts off her neck, revealing a usually well-hidden dragon claw, long and sharp, resting against the slender curve of her neck. Yael’s attention, however, is not on the secrets she is inadvertently revealing, but on her newfound companion.

Through the trees they go, one aurelian form right after the other. And when there is space to walk alongside each other again, Serenity asks her a question. She cannot answer immediately, caught on the word alone. Oh, Yael knows what the woman means, but the simple fact that she says it takes her breath away on some small scale. “Ahhhh… I xaf been xere seence ze beginning of Vinter. A very nice ladee from ze Edge found me in ze T’reshxold and offered sanctuary, so for now, I am t’ere.” She pauses, and fixes the mare with a solemn gaze. “Xow deed you know I vas alone?” Is it written on her face, in the way she cracked the ice with such determination?

And then eager to get the attention off herself, Yael asks her own question back. Gently. Kindly. “And you? Xow long xaf you been xere? I xaf not seen you before… ahr you part of anozer xerd?”