TO LET MY HEART BE MOVED, TO LAUGH FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART,
TO FIND MEANING IN EVERYDAY LIFE...

Summer rays rained down, even in the northern expanse of the Aurora Basin.  The snow still remained untouched atop the peaks surrounding the herdland, but within the air warmth lay uncomfortably on her skin.  Born a winter child, both in the time of the year and coloring, Zyanya had never been terribly fond of the heat.  Spring held her undeniable favor, with all the bright colors of flowers and the still present touch of father winter.  With the incidents occuring in fast succession this spring, though, she wanted to forget about the gentle blossoms and cooler skies.  The burning of the sun came with a slight sense of solace.

Still, sweating even in the far reaches of the north, she could not wait for autumn's arrival.

Today, she stands at the edge of the glassy pool of crystalline mountain waters, eyes tracing over the reflections of the mountains behind and around her.  Thoughts linger everywhere, from her arrival here to the herd meeting to her many ventures out of the land.  She takes comfort in the still, mirror like appearance of the lake.  Time seemed to slow here, in the land of frozen snow and ice.  If she were lucky, it would afford her time to catch up on everything that happened and heal.  Would she ever be able to forget her former home, her former life?  Likely, it was not possible, yet it is said time is the great mender of all things.

Looking into the waters, the reflection of herself is quite similar to ones she had seen before.  A small girl, a proud horn, and a canvas of a pallid sunrise.  Instead of braids holding her mane and tail in an orderly manner, the locks flow freely.  The twines holding them together had been lost in her flight months ago, but her mind still held the images of her former appearance tightly.  Clutching on to past visions, like a child clinging to a safety blanket.
She was not her braids, but something made her desire the familiarity of her heritage.  Changing in a new land scared her, frankly, for she did not know who she would turn out to be.
Zyanya never really knew who she was until she had changed.  A pretty wallflower incapable of anything, scared of everything, who knew nothing.

Now, at least, the weight of reality tempered her foolish views on life.  She learned of the great power that could be held by others, and the tragedies that could befall them.  Little by little, she took cautious steps toward someone more capable, someone less blissfully ignorant.
Someone worth mentioning.

""

---

ooc -- I got distracted half way through, so I apologize.  It's sort of... disjointed.

TO LET MY HEART BE MOVED, TO LAUGH FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART,
TO FIND MEANING IN EVERYDAY LIFE...

A feminine voice dances across her awareness, lifting the girls delicate face upward.  Eyes tear away from the reflection of her face toward another familiar smile.  The glint of silver eyes in the sunlight warms her heart, distancing the porcelain doll further from the cold earth at her hooves.  The soft, velveteen of a muzzles grazes hers, causing a smile to decorate her pink lips as they part.

The mare before her stood, an elegant figure in the mountains.  The gold of her chains glimmer in the sunlight, the flecks of gold in her pelt mimicking the dance of the jewelry.  Something about Rexanna seemed strange today, though she could not pinpoint why.  Perhaps, because the last time they met, children usurped the main focus of their interaction.  Now, Zyanya was left alone with the mare holding herself with refined grace and confidence.  Were she able to grow smaller, surely the mare would in the presence of one so firm in their identity.

"It has been far more than I imagined," the small voice was fragile, distant, lilac eyes glancing over the still waters of the mirror lake.  Could Rexanna understand the opportunity so casually afforded to the daity girl?  Likely not, or it would not have been proffered so freely.  In her time within the Aurora Basin, she felt eased into a sense of security.  The hearts of many reflected in the warm rays from the sun, even in a land covered in snow and peaks.  "Thank you for allowing me to stay, Rexanna."  A smile shy yet bright lights her face, eyes turning briefly back toward the painted face of the spy.

"Your children aren't with you," she makes an observation, glancing around the area for the impish foals.  "Do they get into much trouble on their own?" eyes are warm with curiosity, imagining the outspoken Kianzo to have no troubles with strangers, with his strong personality.  "I imagine they keep you busy."

""

---

ooc -- Sorry for the wait!  I was on absent for five years it feels like.

TO LET MY HEART BE MOVED, TO LAUGH FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART,
TO FIND MEANING IN EVERYDAY LIFE...

Something regal emanated from the mare before her, be it the gold chains decorating her figure or some other, mystical power held within.  Whether or not she held formal title of Lady within the Basin, Zyanya looked toward Rexanna with unspoken respect.  The mare had, after all, welcomed her into this realm with open arms and a vibrant smile.  The smile echoes in her memories, dancing with the present expression on her thickly lined face.  There were many things about Rexanna the small, porcelain girl felt drawn to and, in the deeper recesses of her heart, jealousy rose quietly.

The warmth of her presence is enough for Zyanya to ignore that childish emotion, settling instead for simply enjoying her company.  Comfort came easy to her while under that bright stare, holding lovely words to match her lovely appearance.  Rexanna would never understand the delight and relief she had bestowed upon her the day Zya arrived, lost and afraid, to the Aurora Basin.  She probably never would.

A shy, slight smile develops on her lips at the mention of her children, as if the mention brought up some embarrassing memory.  Zyanya chides herself inwardly, not wanting to offend the mare she held in such high regard.  Humor tints her voice, however, as Rexanna speaks, quelling the rising fear in Zya's gentle heart.  The pale mare loved children, despite having none of her own, and felt comfortable within younger audiences.  There was a magic, a vibrant life untainted by the wear of time and life, that carried children differently than adults.  They tended to find joy easily, smiling in spite of much, which fascinated the young mare.  Perhaps, some day, she would have her own ball of sunshine to follow her.

The silent apology of the early smile on Rexanna's lips takes shape into words, causing Zyanya to quickly assuage the stealth's worries.  "He was no trouble to me at all," the honesty in her soft voice is unmistakable, leaving little doubt that she was not bothered by Kianzo and his spirit.  The next set of words causes Zyanya's eyes to widen slightly, though the mare tries her best to hold back the expression of surprise.  The only King she knew of in this land was Deimos, who, quite frankly, did not seem very approachable upon her first estimations.

"Uhm," the word vacillates on her lips, trying to decide whether or not it would be wise to ask the question forming in her mind.  Finally, looking at the earnestly kind face of Rexanna once more, she decides to avoid misunderstanding by delving into a possibly embarrassing conversation.  "You don't mean Deimos, do you?"  There would be many questions to follow if Rexanna answered the question with yes, surely, mostly out of curiosity and a new found respect for her.

Rexanna asks then of Zyanya's past.  Lavender eyes look across the still waters of the lake, as if to another time and place.  A sigh escapes her lips, small and fragile, crumbling in the breeze.  "I come from a land to the east, which we called Seren.  I do not know if it goes by another name," her voice trails uneasily for a moment, thinking of the civil war back home.  Much of the ruling class had fled, leaving it very likely the world had been overturned.  "A realm of lush grass, valleys, and, most importantly, a land of starlight."

A brilliant, melancholy smile takes shape on her small lips, turning her eyes toward Rexanna, not feeling the tear carving a line through the pale gold of her cheek.  "A land torn asunder by war."

""

TO LET MY HEART BE MOVED, TO LAUGH FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART,
TO FIND MEANING IN EVERYDAY LIFE...

A laugh, small and delicate, bursts from her lips at the response to the former question.  Mocking mainly of herself, Zyanya has an easier smile as Rexanna accepts the question, only to answer with an explanation that matched the smaller mare's own thoughts.  She knew very little of the Lord's personality, only having seen him as a shadow king standing before his loyal subjects.  Inexplicably, the small girl felt afraid of him, though he certainly had not been threatening in his address of the herd.  The description wrought from Rexanna's lips sets her heart at ease, feeling less uncertain about the ruler of this land than she had before.

The grin posed before her also set to ease whatever discomfort had risen from Zya's question had the intended effect.  She felt a tad silly, thinking Kianzo and Kiada the progeny of the Reaper, but at least the mare before her knew how to quash that feeling.  In addition, she gives more detail of the land for the newcomer, perhaps the most extended so casually by anyone.  The listing reminds her a bit of Thranduil's quick lesson on the surrounding areas.  Solemnly, she nods, accepting the knowledge and storing it away for future use.  Tembovu held an exotic name, much like the children he sired.  The girl thought it fitting for the family, despite never having met the father.

Momentarily, she wonders if it was hard living apart from the father of her children.  She dare not ask.

After the description of her former home, Rexanna's face looks sympathetic, something that hints before her words confirm that her own life had seen war.  The smile disappears entirely from Zyanya's face as she listens to the tale offered easily by the other mare.  The girl was not certain what she had done to procure the mare's unwavering trust, it seemed, but she did not protest.  In fact, the reality became clear that without even realizing it, the pair had started a friendship of their own.  The only person in the realm of Helovia she had named a friend thus far was the vibrant, beautiful stallion named Skyfall.  Now, it looked as though she had two.  The feeling would have brought her great joy if not for the story unfolding in her mind, thinking of the hardships Rexanna must have faced, and the brave stoicism with which she relived them all.

At least, knowing that she came from royal blood, the natural grace and confidence of her stance made sense.  There was something regal in her.  "Do you have family from your old life?" she asks, voice tiny and wavering over the cool air of the Basin.  Her lilac eyes reach out, as if to grip onto the other mare's face, the expression in them strangely unreadable.  Normally, the visage of Zyanya rested like an open book to the world, holding no secrets.  Instead, the only thing running through her mind during the moment of silence stayed trapped in her thoughts.

I miss mine terribly.

That Rexanna had found her own family here in Helovia sparked a flame, a tiny candle, in her heart.  Maybe, with any luck, she could replace what had been lost.  It was a fool's hope, nothing more than the dreams of a child.  Despite knowing this, Zyanya's dreams still took flight, imagining a day when she no longer craved their attention, their presence.  At least for a moment, she found respite.

""

TO LET MY HEART BE MOVED, TO LAUGH FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART,
TO FIND MEANING IN EVERYDAY LIFE...

She thought of all the mornings she had awoken to the sound of her mother greeting the rise of the sun, her words in the ancient tongue of their people sailing over the hills.  The gentle voice resided in her memories more strongly than the woman's face.  Her father would always be busy, but when he returned to the embrace of his family, he exuded a calm, comforting air.  Zyanya long imagined him to be invincible, immortal, and the strongest being in the world.  The image of her brother standing for the first time, shortly after his birth, and quickly growing into the solemn young man with a smile brighter than the sun.  Her sisters had long been the envy of her, always thinking them to be far more beautiful and graceful than she could ever dream of becoming.

When the words from Rexanna fall into the air, a frown matching the Thief's own paints her face.  While, surely, Zyanya is pleased that the mare does not know the sting of leaving behind loved ones, she finds the mare's story tragic in quite another way.

To grow, to live, to be in a world where you did not have fond memories of home, of family, felt like the loneliest possibility.  The small, porcelain doll of a mare resists the urge to toss her head comfortingly across Rexanna's back.  Instead, she settles for a much less intimate gesture, reaching out with a soft muzzle to nudge her own, releasing a warm sigh into the air.  To think that a mad prince would be considered her only family from her old life ached, making Zyanya want to come to love this kindhearted mare.  After all, with similar coloring, they might already be mistaken for relatives.

"I suppose," the mare adds uncertainly, wanting to believe that Helovia was a fresh start for all who came here, breaking or already broken.  Still, the memories of her beloved family remained, dancing in her mind's eye like ghosts.  "I would like to make a new family here, some day, I think."  The mare's delicate voice wavers slightly, looking at Rexanna, as though for guidance, reassurance, some sort of acknowledgement.  Hesitant, asking for permission to start over from a mare who could not offer such to her.

""