yael

A shrill cry interrupts Yael as she strips the young bark from a sapling. A thin coat and a lithe frame were beginning to take their toll on her during Frostfall (that was what they called their winter, correct?), and so she’s dedicated an unusual amount of time to trying to eat more than what her stomach calls for. Something to keep her energy up and her mind occupied. It was a terrible coincidence that her arrival in Helovia came at the beginning of the coldest, darkest, most depressing time of the year. It certainly wasn’t helping her spirits - and though the golden pegasus truly meant to seek out Lyanna or Erthe to find something to do, depression still held her in its icy grip.

So a summon to listen to stories (something children did- but was she not like a child in some ways, and besides, completely ignorant of all things Helovian) piques her interest, and the gentle, quiet foreigner follows the sound to find an antlered mare and a little bird-cat-thing, as well as several children and two stallions in attendance. Oh good, she wouldn’t be the only adult there. With a shy glance around, she folds her black-tipped wings in close to her sides and takes a few steps closer, to better hear when the storyteller begins. Little does she know that two of the children are the offspring of her newfound friend, Rexanna, and that she is in for quite a treat. “Shalom,” she says quietly in greeting, following it up quickly with “May I leesten, too?”

The mare’s voice is pleasing to her ears; sweet and low, like a mother talking to her children (of which there appears to be at least one, a darling young filly she recognizes faintly from the fox rodeo). A twinge of guilt runs through her when she mentions that some are weighed down with taking care of others, knowing that she is certainly in the latter group. And she has not offered any benefit to the herd since arriving here. Herded turkeys? Yes. Wandered around? Yes. But she has not yet given back to the Edge, and deep down she knows why. But those words are not yet meant for others’ ears. It is enough to observe and learn and live in the background for the first time in forty years. So instead, Yael listens quietly to the mare convey a deep sense of awe at the magic and generosity of Helovia, and finds herself swept along in joy for the first time this season.

The black-and-gold pegasus has much to learn about this land she’s lingered in. The land she’s chosen to stay in, whether she wants to admit it or not.