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02-05-2017, 08:56 AM
so i listen to the wind for an answer
It’s been some time since she’s come to the Threshold. Life in the Edge is busy, and if she’s being honest, she’d avoided most life through Frostfall. It’s a not a season where she is ever at her best, the ghosts of a past she cannot bury too prevalent. It is certainly not a season where she ought to be representing the Edge to newcomers, her ability to be gracious and kind nearly shot by the memories of blood. And the Edge deserved to be represented as it should; as a place that is welcoming (despite the glass spikes, that she still did not entirely love) and kind.
But Birdsong quiets the ghosts, brings Lyanna back to herself, and she sets into the new year with renewed vigor. Recalling all the friends she has made, all those she has helped, and all those she has yet to get to know or help. Today, as she makes her way through the familiar forest of the Threshold, a place that holds too many memories (some good, some terrible), a piercing whistle catches her attention. It sounds scared or agitated, and though she’s not sure what kind of creature made that sound, she follows. There might be someone hurt at the end of that sound, and healing her what she does, after all.
But soon, a colt and a blue mare come into view, and she catches a few words directed at someone Lyanna can’t see. She makes her way toward the group with a nicker, teal eyes looking the horses over that she can see. No one seems hurt, so perhaps the whistle was just a startle, and the tri-colored mare relaxes a bit. “Hello,” she offers as she closes the distance, her face warm and her smile friendly. “I’m Lyanna,” she offers, falling silent and trying to see the horse who is largely hidden in the trees.
But Birdsong quiets the ghosts, brings Lyanna back to herself, and she sets into the new year with renewed vigor. Recalling all the friends she has made, all those she has helped, and all those she has yet to get to know or help. Today, as she makes her way through the familiar forest of the Threshold, a place that holds too many memories (some good, some terrible), a piercing whistle catches her attention. It sounds scared or agitated, and though she’s not sure what kind of creature made that sound, she follows. There might be someone hurt at the end of that sound, and healing her what she does, after all.
But soon, a colt and a blue mare come into view, and she catches a few words directed at someone Lyanna can’t see. She makes her way toward the group with a nicker, teal eyes looking the horses over that she can see. No one seems hurt, so perhaps the whistle was just a startle, and the tri-colored mare relaxes a bit. “Hello,” she offers as she closes the distance, her face warm and her smile friendly. “I’m Lyanna,” she offers, falling silent and trying to see the horse who is largely hidden in the trees.
lyanna
@Vertigo
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