one small life in exchange for a second chance at history?
            I'VE ALWAYS LOVED A BARGAIN

Naerys loved the cliffs in the Edge... when the weather is warmer. During Frostfall she tends to avoid them, finding the cold breezes to be hideously unpleasant and well worth avoiding. So when she heard Tembovu's voice calling them to gather from outside the shelter of the trees, she literally cringed and audibly groaned in disgust over the situation. She already holds a certain dislike for him, treating him with a level of caution after the rather gruesome scene she stumbled on in the deep forest. How could she bring herself to trust him after that? What if she, or Aly, or Iona, or Caenan were next? What then? It is rather difficult to keep such thoughts from spewing out of her mouth, disgruntled ramblings muttered under her breath. Especially now, when her own displeasure is keen.

Somehow, though, she manages to keep them locked in her mind though she does little to mask her irritation. Instead of hastening her pace and flocking to the meeting, the girl hesitates before sauntering towards the edge of the trees. Petyr follows, of course, as he usually does but she knows he has no intention of following her beyond the trees - and she had no plans to encourage him otherwise. Petyr settles into a nice sized tree, on a branch that would be most likely to keep him from most of the wind and almost immediately fluffs his feathers. Naerys might have laughed if she weren't so preoccupied with being annoyed over the meeting location.

For a second or two the filly contemplates shifting into her warmer, Siberian cat form - the dense, triple layered coat would come in handy to keep the cold winds at bay. The only problem is that nobody in the herd knows of that particular ability yet. And it wasn't exactly a large form amongst all those hooves. How easy would it be for them to simply kick her right off the cliffs and into the sea? Naerys didn't want to find out but she also enjoyed having that one little secret. Sucking it up, the filly tightens the fold of her wings and hugs them more closely to her body in preparation of bracing for the winds. Her teal eyes quickly find the familiar forms of her aunt and mother; picking her path before entering the clearing.

Once she moves past that threshold, however, her pace increases - long, slender legs shuffling quickly to carry her to her mother's side. Once there, she huddles as close as she can and tries desperately to avoid shivering. She pins Tembovu with her best bitch-face glare for the briefest of moments before allowing her face to simply dissolve into an expression of irritation. Whether the irritation was due to the cold or Tembovu's presence only she would know. And it's a secret she has every intention of keeping. Unlike her mother, however, the girl makes no attempt to mask her feelings with a smile. Perhaps that would come with time or perhaps it wouldn't. Either way it has no bearing on the present.

NAERYS