so i listen to the    wind for an answer

She is entirely late to the start of the Basin’s festival. For once, she has no good excuse. Herd business didn’t keep her tied up (though Gods know there is plenty of business), she wasn’t in the Threshold. No, this time, she’d simply lost track of time. It was so rare a pleasure to get time to herself that she’d gotten lost in her own wanderings and thoughts until finally she’d remembered she had someone to be. So, she is late. Thankfully she has wings, and the journey is far shorter because of them. She lands outside the Basin as she had the last time, making her way on foot through the mountain pass and past the sentinels as she has done a few times now.

The first time she’d been here it had been for the festival as well. She’d been new to Helovia, and had known no one, though the festival had been fun and a good way to meet a few new faces. She’s been back since then to visit the healers and her friend, and now, here she is again. The Basiner’s were going to get really sick of seeing her face probably. Then again, she felt that way about the Throat lately. She’d spent two years without ever visiting to all of sudden find herself going twice in less than a season.

Today, at least, she has a good reason to be here. Being late, she’s far from the first to arrive, though she’s in time to catch the lightshow. Not the usual lightshow of the Basin’s northern lights, but the electric show that only a God could give. First, the world is dark and quiet and time moves too slowly, but then the world flashes to life with deer’s and wolves and dragons all made of electricity. Flowers of light bloom around them, and the sky continues to be filled with fireworks (these more like the ones Rexanna could make).  

She assumes, though does not see, that the God of the Spark has arrived. Lyanna is still too far away, and in truth, she has no place hunting for the God anyway. Instead, a pair of familiar horses catches her attention, and she makes her way over to them. She does keep an eye out until she finally spots Rikyn and who she thinks must be the God standing behind him, though she doesn’t know for sure. She’s never see the Spark or the Sun before.

“Astarot, Amaris,” she says to the two horses, offering them a smile and a nod. Her eyes drift away from the God and to them now. “That was quite something,” she adds, nodding toward the lights that still dot the ground in pretty flower form. She can’t imagine the Moon doing anything so similar, though that’s not entirely true. She could imagine the Moon doing nearly anything for Tembovu, but for Lyanna? There’s the truth of it. Lyanna’s only even spoken to the Moon directly once – she has no such rapport with her deity.

lyanna