Esinakh isn’t sure about this move, to say the least. And her nervousness manifests as nonstop, intense preening as brother calf calls for mother. Her ears twitch and swivel, as much listening as moving for a release of her nervous energy. Her pale eyes dart between her white feathers (they are gleaming, now; a few are growing thin beneath her attentions) and Rak as he calls out for mother and the King. Though the King emanates a sense of safety (a father figure of sorts in the absence of the Wildfire), he has too many scars marring his skin and making it uneven for her to be entirely comfortable around him.
She finally stops her preening when Mai arrives, her barred face slowly swiveling and ears fluting towards her to hear her words. The filly’s gaze darts at the air huffed towards brother-calf; and though she finds warmth and safety in mother’s scent, the sharing of breath has never been her favorite. So, instead, she quietly bleats a greeting, “Mai.” And then her muzzle presses lightly into Arakh’s rump—it was his idea to leave the Edge for the Throat. Though she is not entirely sold on the idea, she will follow him to the ends of the earth (provided they are relatively clean, of course). Despite the sand she knows awaits them, she trusts her newfound flight and the freshwater oasis Rak has told her about to to keep her
But her nervousness still shows as she glances around for the King to arrive.