The painted pegasus wasn’t particularly content to hear the call of the Elephant King. She wasn’t trying to avoid her duties to the herd, it was just much cooler at altitude than it was on level ground.  Why anyone stood around and allowed themselves just to bake in the sun when they had the option to do otherwise puzzled her, but to each their own.  With a huff she made her way towards the meeting, but took her time knowing that the sun would be unrelenting on a day like today. There was nothing graceful about her arrival today.  Iona appeared between the trees a mess of windblown hair, but couldn’t find it in herself to give a damn. 

She caught sight of her sister standing with Dacianna and made her way to them. She was pleased to see that Dacianna still had all of her adornments and that her personal pest hadn’t tried again to steal away any of her herdmates’ trinkets. 

Iona gave her sister a once-over and couldn’t help but think that the once quieter of the two sisters seemed so much more comfortable in her own skin this time around.  Last meeting Alysanne looked like she would have rather been anywhere but gathered amongst her herdmates, or that she’d rather be planning a way to defy both physics and reason and find a way to push Tembovu from his perch on the cliffside.  She looked far less homicidal this time around.  That had to be an improvement, yes?

“Ah. Fashionably late. Duty calls and all,” she offered to Alysanne, with a smirk and a small brush to her lighter sibling’s wing as she drew to a halt. She offered a nod to both Elsa and Tembovu and couldn’t help but notice the contrast between the two.  Tembovu stood tall, proud, and larger than life before his herd, imbued with a physical and metaphorical fire that drove him.  And then there was Elsa. Quiet. Stoic. The embodiment of winter itself. Iona knew less about the Icebound, but respected her no less. She was certainly more mysterious than the Elephant King. Iona certainly couldn’t fault the woman for that.  

The canopy flapping in the wind was distracting, and Iona again turned to Alysanne, trying and failing to keep a neutral expression on her face.  “What in the hell is that?” she asked her sister, perhaps a little too loudly than what would conventionally be considered polite.