Zyanya

For the briefest of moments, Zya can feel the gold-flecked eyes hesitating on her skin, as if waiting for more information of the North to drift from her lips. Unfortunately for the golden boy, she had not yet come to know her herdmates well enough to comment on the general state of the Aurora Basin much more. Perhaps, mentioning that Lena and she had aided a dirty and downtrodded little lady at their borders. Somehow, Zyanya doubted Thranduil would care much for that knowledge.

More accurately, she selfishly had her own intents in this conversation. Ever the sobbing child, looking for someone stronger to take her burdens or at least empathize. As her lavender pools dance underneath silver eyelashes, Zya notices the distance in the gold's face once more.

What am I doing? she thinks.

Tilting her head backward, to gaze back at the silver shore. Her heart sinks as the seconds run in silence, hoping the gold would show some of the wisdom he kept guarded. The delicate face of the pale colored femme contorts more in worry, in self-deprecation. Her life, short and soft, taught her little until recently. A humorous voice answers finally. Surprise fills the translucent expanse of her face, eyes widening as she turns back to view his face. A smile unfurls on his face, though the intent of the smile is questionable at best - to any aside from Zyanya.

She returns a smile, thankful for the proffered attempt to soothe the aches of her spirit. Worrying too much? Had she really become such a creature? She lived worry free for years until her sister's murder, and now that had shifted. "Oh," is all she can muster, a tiny sound, losing its identity amid the crashing of the waves.

Petite ears flush forward, intent to capture the words Thranduil offers freely. After he speaks, Zya pauses, rereading the words over in her mind, as if to stupidly begin to deny the words just spoken. Hesitation kept you safe from many things - heartbreak, pain, fear... but also love, strength, and adventure. A frown, not of sadness, makes a thick crease on an otherwise airy face. She reached an impasse within herself. Could she start anew, without being willing to take chances and experience great things?

When her lilac eyes grow focuses again, the gold is already disappearing into the waves, almost silently, much to her surprise. As the smaller waves bounces against her shoulder they lap and tug, creating discordant noises at the base. She turns her head to Haldir, only to meet gentle eyes and a firm nod, as if to agree with the gold. Shifting her weight uneasily on her small hooves, she watches the gold slip deeper and deeper into the water. Then, all at once, a graceful lope breaks her from the trance in the shallows, a wave of her own making gliding over the surface of the ocean. The deeper she gets, the colder the water feels, almost making her dream of turning back; the determined girl would not turn back now.

She attempts her best to close the distance between herself and Thranduil, but finds her height cannot match his, nor her depth, unless she were to loose her cerulean hooves from sand below. "Thank you," she calls out to him, a girlish smile of delight painted where worry was. "You are kind, Thranduil." Had she been able to stand as deep as he, the girl might have offered a friendly nudge of her muzzle. Instead, she made due with the expressions so vivid on her young face.

Then, a wave splashes over her face, causing her eyes to shut and her muscles to tense against the force. The rush of the water washes away the hesitation of her body on the shore, but she lets the wave roll her with its strength - first up, then back down, slightly further out. As the air clears about her head, she shakes her neck uselessly - most of it covered completely by the water - to rid her eyes of the sopping mess of her forelock. The allure of the ocean physically manifesting itself in the waves, drawing you deeper and deeper into the sea. Instead of allowing certain death, for she could not swim of her knowledge, the girl makes a run back toward Haldir, his dark body easy to spot against the silver sands.

This time, instead of carefully planned steps, the girl's gait is rather haphazard, though amazingly still retaining the poise natural to her as breathing. Legs lift large swaths of water from the sea, tossing them toward the deer in a playful manner as she laughs, no longer feeling the chill.

Whether or not his intention, Thranduil helped her.

""

YOU ARE THE BLUEST LIGHT.