She returned his touch, a gentle, soothing caress like a balm against a stinging burn. Her actions are sincere, genuine, her muzzle pressing so intimately to his own and Apollo drinks her in, inhaling her scent, memorizing every detail from the velvety, feminine touch of her muzzle, to the way her eyes sparkled in the embers of the dying light, to the sound of her lovely voice and the way that her smile lit up his world, permeating his dark thoughts and showing him only goodness, memorizing it... Because, when their parting inevitably came, Apollo feared that he would never see her again.

Like so many others, Lyanna would disappear into the wind and out of his grasp the moment he looked the other way, forever.

But their parting came, inevitably, and the Merciful stallion watched with warm, soulful honey-brown eyes as she straightened, doing the same, his smile growing considerably as she agreed to accompany him in an evening stroll along the shoreline. In an almost effortless move, Apollo lowered his head and gently closed his teeth about Zola's scruff, picking the petite feline up and placing her upon his withers. The said cat immediately settled upon her customary perch along the overo's back, stretching out along her belly with her back legs hanging off of the stallion's right side, and front legs hanging down his left.

They fell into step effortlessly after that, side by side, meandering down the shoreline with their hooves leaving imprints within the white granules of the beach sand. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was oddly soothing, even though a part of him would always be anxious of the large body of water itself. Here, on the land, they were safe. Inside the water, well... That was a whole other story, and one he might share.

Occasionally, with every other step, Apollo's barrel would brush against the downy feathers of Lyanna's wings, an accidental touch that he was unaware of at first, and then somewhat embarrassed over. However, his honey-brown eyes glanced towards the ebony lady's lovely face, gauging her reaction or if she had even noticed, before looking back towards the churning waves and the woven tapestry of colors on the horizon.

"... Many years ago, when I had only been in Helovia for a short time and very much younger than I am now, a good friend and myself played within these very waves. It was all good fun, but... An odd creature emerged from the deep." Here, Apollo's soft, gentle voice grew somewhat strained, his memories getting the best of him, recalling the terror, the panic, the fear of drowning... "It was a monstrous mystery, really, but I believe it was called a 'Kraken'. It had many large tentacles that writhed high in the sky, and only one could effortlessly pick up a horse."

The stallion paused, shook his head with a snort, tossing the thickness of his mane about and turned his gaze so that his eyes rested on the soothing familiarity of Lyanna's teal orbs. When he spoke again, his expression was somewhat sheepish and ashamed. "I have always been afraid of the water. Even more-so, now, that I know what lurks in the deep. But I am still captivated by the beauty here, so I come here again and again, despite what had almost happened..."

It was another lesson, another memory. It was something that had happened, and no matter how much he reflected on it and thought it over, Apollo was glad that it did happen. Just as his arrival in Helovia, joining the Grey, fighting in the Foothills invasion, becoming a medic, a Chief, making friends, losing friends... Meeting Lyanna.

"Lyanna?" The question of the dark lady's name came softly, as though shyly, and Apollo's gaze remained rooted upon her own. His steps felt light, his breast loose and void of tension, his heart aflutter. "Perhaps this is a foolish question... But what is it like? To fly? To feel the wind upon your wings and soar like a bird?"

Because unlike her, he was land-bound, stuck to experience the mystery of flight by only watching.