Dawn's Cold Light
AuraSidra was still quite young, only just beginning to reach the gangly phase of growing limbs, but she did still have a very well defined sense of herself. She knew quite well who she would trust enough to be in charge of taking care of others; the only one she fully respected was Eternal, as far as bond-mates went. Darroch was good company and she would at least consider his opinion, but there was no way she'd accept a command from him. Even her parents had to allow for logical reasoning - okay, they encouraged it, even scolded her when she failed to question one of their instructions.
But today (well, this morning at any rate) her protective stalker was Thorn. How anyone got the Hermit to actually leave his bat-strewn haunted woods was well beyond her; she hardly ever saw the stallion and knew he kept everyone at far too much of a distance to risk any notion of being responsible for them. And he really wasn't very good at tailing; he hooves weren't whisper soft like Darroch's, nor did he know how to sit perfectly still like her mother or glide on the faintest breath of wind as her father. He tromped around quite blatantly less than nine lengths behind her. The only good thing was that he didn't try any awkward conversation.
AuraSidra, meanwhile, wove her way through the pale dawn light and sniffed curiously at anything that moved. She'd been up early as she was each day, a trait she shared with her mother. The filly rarely knew where she would end up when she entered this strange place, the land of her ancestors, but she often enjoyed finding out. This time she was comfortably north; the air held the hint of a chill and the shadows bit at her where the sun couldn't reach. There was a strange bit of water not far, an odd mix between a swamp and the more familiar icy fjord. She didn't think she was precisely in the Fields any more; she'd probably crossed the Fyn river and wound up somewhere in Wesfyn. The swampy-feeling was the last of the river's claim on the land as she neared the cooler northern waters. She was supposed to stay in the Fields, she knew that, as there were a few unbondeds in the Outlands who were particularly fierce, but it really wasn't her own fault. The water had seemed so much more interesting than those mountains, and it really didn't matter that Caelum had told her of a valley in the lower portions. She wasn't that great at flying yet and she didn't want to go scrambling up a rocky cliff, thank you very much.
Besides all that, the sun was finally coming up in earnest and she could see properly now at the very least. It was flashing dazzlingly off the inlet that allowed a large pocket of the sea to reach between her and the distant corner of the land (wasn't it called Brei?) and her legs were well and truly getting a touch tired from all the walking. Crossing the river had been an adventure in and of itself, especially while she was mostly blinded.
Now she stood with the sea breeze tugging at her mane, her eyes wandering over a strange portion of her homeworld, and began to wonder what consequences might come of such trespass. Rogue Serians weren't the only concerns out here, and it was the Fields that was meant to be a haven for her kind.
----
She didn't know it yet for whatever reason, but Thorn wasn't at all oblivious to how the young filly saw the worlds. It wasn't that she was easy to read; for one so young she had a wonderful grasp of her body language. No, he knew because he knew her kind.
She used to be called Sidhe as a nickname; one of the fae-kin, one who had a strong touch of the broken magic that had helped to create their very species. Now, the others referred to her as The Princess. Just because he kept to his harsh woodland didn't mean he was without resources. After all, one might call his home barren upon first glance, and yet it sustained him and various other lives quite well.
The young thing often would duck her head to look at passing items, but always for a mere instant. It seemed the natural position of her neck was to hold her head high and proud; perhaps it was, considering who her mother was. Her father as well; once so frivolous, the old stallion had become gentle and proud. There was a calmness within him, a quiet enjoyment in small moments. Both he and his Mate were often known to glide silently above their filly while she was allowed to forget about them, regally drifting in her wake.
That wasn't Thorn's style. Thorn wasn't a gentle soul, quiet as he may be. And he wasn't about to let the little princess forget that she wasn't so tough as to explore on her own. Especially when she crossed the great river that marked the edge of the Fields, the great lands that were their haven.
At the least, she did manage to make it seem as if this outing may be slightly interesting. In strange and possibly dangerous areas, he may have a little bit of fun. Maybe he'd get lucky and she'd fall into the glittering water she stopped to stare at; he wouldn't have to be too gentle while dragging her back out, so long as he kept his word and made sure she got back home alive. If they both got sopping wet in chilled water he'd have to run her hard, too, to both dry and warm her.
If this is what happened when he bothered to leave his forest then at the very least the little squirt could do something interesting to make up for it. Thorn wasn't even entirely sure how he'd wound up being the one to make sure she didn't do something stupid enough to get herself killed. Something about how he'd wanted to do some wandering anyway and hadn't a destination in mind... Perhaps a challenge or a good fight, but not a destination. It had seemed logical enough at the time, as if he could have easily just ignored her as they went in the same general direction.
Just his luck that this new filly would prove to be one of those strong personalities that somehow always manage to make things go their way.
Maybe a bear-hog would show up and try to eat her for him. That could be fun.