Her legs are trembling, and not just from the impact, but from the flashes in her brain. Thoughts just tumble over and over again, and the reoccurring moment seems so real. Even if it was real, it was certainly scarring. She glances to her back, and moves her wings to see if their still ablaze. She's untouched by serious burns, but places where she was thin in hair, sting like bees. Chandä's thoughts flash, back and forth, to reality, to what seemed to take place so long go. The multicolored girl remembers the thin line of water, instantly boiling as she removed herself from that rare sort of cover. She didn't realize the sun was so hot. At least it isn't normally.

She glances up through her tree's brown leaves, and into the sky, where that sun followed her like a beguiled god. It's eyes pierce the land, baking the seas and roasting even its inhabitants. She glares back with a mortal sort of torment, and the look in her eyes is a rare one.

Soon, someone arrives, ready to take the shell shower of frequently asked questions. She is a worried girl, worried perhaps more than she should be. Chandä is shaken, but not to terribly wounded, it is more on the inside that is scarred now. She is wiser in the mere passing seconds, realizing that she simply cannot drench a hand and place it on a stove. Soon, hazel eyes find the painted, brooding figure of Onni. As her voice slips between polite yet immensely apprehensive lips, Chandä listens contently.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes I believe so," the new girl's voice spills, rolling in the dry air for a moment before puffing out completely at Onni's ears. The girl various shades of chestnut, picks up and speaks again, "Nasty it was indeed. I don't think I've experienced a fall quite like that." She smiles when the words fall out. Her panting continues between take ins unlike before. The climate here is an inferno, literally. There are faint smells of smoke that are perhaps drifting from surrounding lands that have it worse than this one. It's hard to imagine worse, but it always is, until you really experience it. Her mocha gaze continues to follow up the girl's closely related appearance. They are of the same height, similar colors, and even the wingspan is pretty close. Both faces are marked with a textured frost. The difference is in the eyes.

Chandä's attention faces those light, kind eyes that total her expression completely. They are almost normal to an everyday paint horse expression, but these eyes are different. By the way that they convey the girl's emotion, glittering vitally in the sun's deathly glare, even Chandä can tell they've seen much more than this.


Chandä

Sky falls, you feel like it's a beautiful day