i am a leaf on the wind

Digging isn’t going to be something she’s particularly good at. Once, it would have been easy. A good gust of wind would have cleared away the debris, though she probably would have had to create smaller, targeted winds to move patches of things. One giant gust of wind would have just created a total mess. But now, she can’t control the wind. She’s got hooves and her legs and her head. This was not going to be easy. But of all the things they needed to accomplish for the spikes, it was the only thing she could even begin to do.
 
So when Dacianna calls early in the morning, Lyanna makes her way over, figuring it’s probably good to just get started and get done. Dacianna takes charge with a short, quick speech, and it’s not long before they’re turned loose on a patch of grass. An ivory and coral mare takes to a rock, shoving it along, and Lyanna figures she might as well start with something else. Her feathers were the least likely to be damaged from all the glass, as long as kept the glass well enough away from the small tendons and muscles in her wings.
 
She finds some of the glass and unfurls a wing, scooping it up gently with the edge of her teal feathers. Who would have thought she’d use these wings for painting and now cleaning? She walks away a good distance and deposits the glass in a small little rubble pile (oh, what would they do will all the leftover debris?). Then she turns back, looking for more glass, when she catches the half-smile, half-grimace of the ivory mare. She introduces herself as Orithia, and Lyanna offers her a pleasant, friendly smile in return. “Lyanna,” she says. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And you as well, Dacianna,” she adds, realizing she’d practically forgotten her manners.
 
Her parents would murder for for forgetting an introduction. Not that they could now, but still, old habits die hard, and she’s surprised she was so lax for a moment. Too determined to clear glass, apparently. She keeps an ear pricked in the direction of the others, trying not to miss any conversation directed her way, as she goes back to scooping glass and depositing it in her rubble pile. 

watch how i soar.

lyanna

i am a leaf on the wind

A few more join. Lyanna vaguely recognizes the white, spotted stallion, though she does not know him. He doesn’t offer a name, or a greeting, but simply sweeps in like a ghost and starts rolling rocks with a staff. Well, that looks a whole lot easier than using heads and wings, so she won’t complain. She watches him for a moment with teal eyes, curious about the stallion she often sees in meetings and gatherings, but never actually hears from. Though not hardly seems like the time to start prying, and even if she wanted to, Tilney’s already bursting onto the scene in a fashion entirely different than the white stallion.

The Moon Doctor grabs her attention, offering a pair of horns and then asking her how she is. Lyanna smiles, taking a break for a moment from scooping glass with her wings. “I’m good. I’ve been avoiding the rocks, though,” she says with a smile, glad to see a familiar face truthfully. “How are you Tilney?” She gives him a moment to answer and then goes back to moving shards of glass into her ever growing pile. What were they possibly going to do with the mounds of glass? Surely, mountains of broken glass were not really something they wanted dotting the Edge.

Tilney pulls her thoughts from the little of glass hill to the gardens, and she chuckles slightly. “I kind of like it in the gardens,” she says with a twinkle, obviously not upset to be out here cleaning the border. But still, there’s a reason she picked the healing ranks. She’s good at quietly tending plants and gathering herbs (she’s good at roaming, the herbs just happen to be there).

Tilney is a whirlwind of energy, and it’s not long before he’s invented a game. Well, at least that’ll make this sad little party a bit more fun. She pauses, watching him for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what she needs and how to do it. Then she disappears into the trees for a moment, coming back with a rather sturdy looking branch that was not so large as to be unwieldy. She can’t fling rocks with antlers, but she can mimic the staff that the pale stallion uses. It’s not long before she’s able to lever rocks from their place, pushing them along rather easily toward the tree (easily as compared to trying to use her head, anyway). “I’m game,” she says, flicking her tail, already taking a head start.

watch how i soar.

lyanna