yael

No stranger to the winds of change, the old woman has weathered her fair share of changing thrones and herd meetings. It is the way of kingdoms and herdlands, the ebb and flow of workloads grows too much for some - the allure of a life lived only for themselves and loved ones far stronger than the strength it takes to exist in the public eye. Privacy. A true sanctuary. As the hot winds turn cold again, so does the Edge rotate with the seasons, and when Tembovu’s call rings across the pine-forested land, Yael obliges. She is unable to find a spot next to Lyanna, so the gilded woman parks herself next to Amaris, wingtips gliding along the leather skin of the other’s wings. Gold, champagne, and silver creating a rather splendid metallic party between the two women. Her gaze wanders around the assembled before Tembovu begins, nodding to her friends and those she is only marginally acquainted with.

He drops a small bomb on them - an explosion that blossoms into a wave of happiness for her friend. Other are promoted and then she hears her own name on the former monarch’s lips, and a wave of pride washes over her. Her hard work is being recognized! Appreciation and reward should never be underestimated as tools in a monarch’s repertoire; romanesque head dips in gratitude, even as congratulations from herd members are scattered through the air. Her nose brushes out to Amaris in thanks, but her eyes search for her teal-tipped friend, knowing that the woman’s life is about to get a hell of a lot busier.

Yael, however, has faith in the kind pegasus, and knows that the Edge will be in decent hands for awhile. But wait - what is that news? Gaal is stepping down to turn to his new family? Something dark and jealous twists inside her, despite the fact that she’d never given him reason to think she might be susceptible to more than casual flirting. Of course he’d mated with another, as a strong, virile stallion should. It is, perhaps, the loss of the only bit of male attention she’d garnered that stings, wondering if she’d aged so much in the last couple of seasons. Well, no matter… family is important. She could never begrudge anyone that.

And anyway, he is not her Vanquish. He is not her Nightwalker. She would never be his Desert Rose. So why, then, does she feel this… upset? Yael forces a smile to her face, blocking out all signs of dismay. She would deal with those emotions in private.

Today is a day to celebrate Lyanna.