Ree.

Like a sparrow gliding gaily on the warm and welcoming winds of Birdsong, she glides into the meadow, a twirling, weaving, blithe character beneath the radiance of the sun, a silhouette of soft earthen hues and brief touches of ivory upon her legs and sprightly face. She cannot hold still. Eyes, doe like and wide, take in the vast breadth of her serene surroundings. Ahead of her the sound of a river racing reaches her ears, the rolling white waters bubbling, babbling and musical in quality. It streams away into the distance, bending with the curve of the horizon and disappearing into the midst of soft emerald grass and violet flowers. Despite her seemingly mindless frivolity, the eager snap of her knees as they draw her hooves across the earth with a dancer’s grace, there is still an apparent wariness about her. Grouse flee from her path as she wanders, twigs snap and the wind whistles eerily on occasion, and she shies away from these things in an indiscernible tangle of legs and flying mane until the panic passes, and she can calm herself again.

It was unusual for her to be so far from home. She still smelled of the desert oasis and the fine red sand remained dusted over her skin, proof of her wayfaring. Never before had she been brave enough to delve off into the unknown of the dangerous wilds on her own, but despite her tendency to remain in the safety and comfort of the known and normal, a curiosity had blossomed in the confines of her captive mind. Inquisitiveness offers adventure and excitement, and slowly its serein’s call has serenaded the bay nymph with promises of grandeur and discovery. Each sunrise she has sat within the Throat and been content to stare at what lie beyond the blanket of the darkened horizon, to envision and create images of the wilderness and the creatures of legend within it, observe from the security of her thoughts where nothing could hurt her. But her forays into the heated lands of Helovia’s Heart had baited her, tempted her with what could be if she were only brave enough to seek it; friendship, exploration, belonging. Her heart and soul were perhaps more fragile than the average individual in the ways of being broken, for so long fear has kept her rooted in place, in routine and repetition. However, the same delicate heart and soul also yearn for existence, significance; they crave to be more than just the sum of her own faults and vices.

Hazel eyes fall upon the pair that abides within the violet and jade stained meadow, and her erratic, flighty pattern of movement ceases immediately. She is comprised of caution and curiosity, lingering just far enough away that if she need flee, she may. With innocent intrigue and unfettered fascination she looks upon the small creature that scurries and scampers at the unicorn’s feet, an unusual fox kit of the purest porcelain white, like freshly fallen snow beneath the kiss of a morning sun, its many tails brushing and twisting through the soft grass as it romps about. Ree glances at the stranger, her warm gaze lambent from beneath long lashes, and her heart racing eagerly in her chest, hopefulness and anticipation like a candle light, flickering and shining out her eyes for the mare to see. Her voice, sing song intonations of light and wind, reach forward in a bubbly, cheerful and pleasant offering of salutations.

“Hello there,” Kindness and genuity pour past parted lips, “I apologize, I don't mean to intrude."