Ahvelyn

Zyanya felt awfully out of place leading the way.  Instead, standing in front of the leggy, fabulous stallion made her want to follow him, which would be quite silly, as he had no way of finding the herdland in the North.  She attempted to remain focused on keeping pace with his much larger self, but found her delicate short legs unable to match his.  Poor Skyfall must have had a horrible time slowly jaunting after her, even with all her efforts to keep an acceptable pace.

Free of the forest and Rikyn, her heart settled into a nice easy pace.  Being alone with another made her feel much more at ease, as she could feel more comfortable directing attention and thoughts toward one person's demands or desires, versus trying to please a crowd.  "The last stretch of the journey is a little more rough," her voice warns, turning her head back to catch a glimmer of opal eyes.  "So watch your step."

Taking her own advice, her eyes drift toward the path they followed, which seemed to wind up into the mountains out of of sight.  The snowcapped peaks towered above, the white a show of defiance in the face of Tallsun.  However, the air itself did not hold a bitter chill.  The Steppe even thawed enough to reveal arctic grasses and small shrubbery hidden upon her arrival a season ago.  She also knew within the embrace of the mountain lay a field of green grass and a crisp, chilled lake that never seemed to freeze.

Weaving between several paths available to them, Zyanya makes the trip as quick as possible.  The trip from the Threshold was not particularly long, though it would be a lie to call it a short walk.  The last leg took longer than the rest, it felt, for the anticipation of returning home grew in her chest and felt like weights on her small cerulean hooves.  Soon enough, the tips of a glimmering, metal horn show up in the distance, the giant Sentinels ever standing watch over the entrance to the Basin.

Looking over her shoulder as they come into full view of the giants, she smiles.  "I named the one on the left Milo," she says, her voice shy but delighted.  "I am not sure if they have souls, but I think he seems happier with a name."  Skyfall would be the first to know of her secret naming of the Sentinels, but she hoped it would soothe any fears the monstrous shapes stirred in his heart.  After all, she had been terrified of them at first.

Coming to stand next to a large, metal leg, Zya raises her crown to let out a loud and graceful call, hoping to draw the attention of someone qualified to accept this newcomer into the Basin.

Zyanya felt awfully out of place leading the way. Instead, standing in front of the leggy, fabulous stallion made her want to follow him, which would be quite silly, as he had no way of finding the herdland in the North. She attempted to remain focused on keeping pace with his much larger self, but found her delicate short legs unable to match his. Poor Skyfall must have had a horrible time slowly jaunting after her, even with all her efforts to keep an acceptable pace.

Free of the forest and Rikyn, her heart settled into a nice easy pace. Being alone with another made her feel much more at ease, as she could feel more comfortable directing attention and thoughts toward one person's demands or desires, versus trying to please a crowd. "The last stretch of the journey is a little more rough," her voice warns, turning her head back to catch a glimmer of opal eyes. "So watch your step."

Taking her own advice, her eyes drift toward the path they followed, which seemed to wind up into the mountains out of of sight. The snowcapped peaks towered above, the white a show of defiance in the face of Tallsun. However, the air itself did not hold a bitter chill. The Steppe even thawed enough to reveal arctic grasses and small shrubbery hidden upon her arrival a season ago. She also knew within the embrace of the mountain lay a field of green grass and a crisp, chilled lake that never seemed to freeze.

Weaving between several paths available to them, Zyanya makes the trip as quick as possible. The trip from the Threshold was not particularly long, though it would be a lie to call it a short walk. The last leg took longer than the rest, it felt, for the anticipation of returning home grew in her chest and felt like weights on her small cerulean hooves. Soon enough, the tips of a glimmering, metal horn show up in the distance, the giant Sentinels ever standing watch over the entrance to the Basin.

Looking over her shoulder as they come into full view of the giants, she smiles. "I named the one on the left Milo," she says, her voice shy but delighted. "I am not sure if they have souls, but I think he seems happier with a name." Skyfall would be the first to know of her secret naming of the Sentinels, but she hoped it would soothe any fears the monstrous shapes stirred in his heart. After all, she had been terrified of them at first.

Coming to stand next to a large, metal leg, Zya raises her crown to let out a loud and graceful call, hoping to draw the attention of someone qualified to accept this newcomer into the Basin.

Ahvelyn