Far too often she’s found herself in the air. Departing humid lands for the refreshing sea breeze, elevating her soul, her spirit and body into the cool jet streams. She is living her life in near abandon. Invigorated by the loyalty that continues to spin, webbing, and entangling her closer to the Edge. Even if it evades the interpersonal, at least time itself provides communion with the flora and atmosphere that envelops them all.
Off to the coast, she receives the call well. Familiar, burning, reminds the girl of the densely packed General and her severe gaze. Where there should be scorn, she finds herself void of the fear and apprehension of their previous fight. There is only going forwards, only moving on. She realizes, as she carves out the air with her wings to head back – that she does not enjoy that feeling of impending doom. Of the happenchance that comes with her disability. People would either have to take it or leave it, and the girl – woman now – must learn to adapt to her vacant voice.
She would learn – somehow.
Her feathery form lands at a distance from the gathering group. Touching down at a trot, Ru joins her brethren to face the General. A layer of sweat clung to her sides, lips dry with the sea salt. A curious gaze roams those who have gathered. And while the girl is loath to worry, their small partition appears laughable – and it stings. There is Darwin who she recognizes, and Elsa beside him. She casts the frigid mare a curling smirk, brief, before passing the faces of The Mountain, and Bartholomeo.
Right, back to business.
With Ros’s voice clearing, the girl’s breath has softened to an easy rate. Hugging her wings close, despite the sweat that drips below. It comes as a shock when her name is mentioned – rank included. She doesn’t feel worthy; can feel how the feathers along her neck half-flare in that momentary adrenaline spiking at this very moment. With a heavy exhale, Ru nods curtly to Ros. Quietly inhaling the surrounding air, in an attempt to feed her restless body with this news. The fact that the rank of Sergeant requires filling passes beyond her ears, only momentarily gaining Darwin’s afforded gaze.
Hah!
So this shit is for real now.
She contradicted herself, recalling that first spar. How lost and wanting she’d been, the pain a poignant reminder of her training. With another, steady inhale, she focused more clearly on Ros’ words. She can feel Darwin’s gaze from the corner of her eyes, and glances back when the mentions of patrols are made; as if to remind the girl that the challenges ahead of her were far from over.
Ru nods simply in his direction, though the action is a regretful one. The girl wishes to speak on behalf of their findings – and yet, finds her resources low in this area. Deciding to avoid answering several yes and no questions at this point.
When Ros finishes up the bulk of her words, summarized by the hard work ahead of them, Ru gives a hearty cry from her jowls. Stomping her hoof against the trampled earth, as if to agree wholeheartedly with their General. To prove to her, to the Edge and Helovia – that they would rise up despite the odds.
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