Sometimes, she wants to fly forever. To call the sky and the clouds and the sun so close she feels like she could touch it, her home. Sometimes, she looks down at the ground as her shadow passes over it and wonders how she could have ever believed it was okay that she wasn’t allowed to fly, once.

Samaira glides on the updrafts over the mountains. The wind passes through her outstretched wings, whistling through her feathers, and it is a high she rides up, up, up. Oh, she thinks she could fly forever, if only she would never tire. She has spent so much time in the sky, since that first flight over Susurro Fields with Israfel. The fear that had been in her that day is gone now. Now, she takes to the sky and has trouble convincing herself to come down.

She has almost 7 years of not-flying to make up for, of course.

At her side floats Alaunus on the same wind. He is strangely silent this day, but the young heron talks endlessly most of the time and Samaira has to admit she is grateful for the bit of quiet. From her bird’s eye view, she spots what appears to be the entrance to a cave down below, perched just above a thin lake. Her curiosity gets the best of her, “Alaunus look, there. What do you say we do a bit of exploring?”

And her, like the stranger her eyes do not see below, does not know any better of the place to avoid it. She drifts down toward the ground is lazy circles, eventually landing some feet away among the trees. Alaunus lands next to her gracefully, and at last he speaks, “Are you sure about this? We are in an unfamiliar place, perhaps we shouldn’t wander around without knowing more,” his wide blue eyes beseech her to reconsider, but Samaira’s mind is made.

“Oh, we will be fine I’m sure. Come on, Alaunus, I will protect you from any big bad monsters,” she laughs, but his expression is uncharacteristically serious. She can’t decide if he senses something she does not, or if the young bird is just frightened, “Okay, we’ll be careful, I promise,” the pegasus relents, pushing through the bushes.

That’s when she comes face to face with the other equine, and she startles, silver eyes widening, ears standing high atop her head. “Oh, my!” she pauses, unsure, and can feel Alaunus’ presence just behind her. Through their bond she can almost feel both his uncertainty and his satisfaction that he may have been right all along.

“Hello,” she ventures, offering a smile.

@Elchanan!

Samaira’s startled feathers flatten, her wings settling lightly against her sides. Her silver eyes change from wide, full moons to smiling gibbouses. But, oh, for all her joys in flight there is still a strange weight to her shoulders, like the things that once rested there have still not found their way lifted. She would rather stay in the sky forever, for touching the ground only makes her think of all the things she has missed.

The other pegasus bows, sweeping and graceful, and his voice rings out like a song, or a lullaby. She takes the momentary lapse of eye contact to get a better look at him. He reminds her of a sun-washed beach from high above, dotted by clouds, and upon his forehead is a symbol, two concentric circles with a cross shape through them. She wonders if it is a marking, or more akin to the delicate white tattoos that she herself sports.

“A pleasure, yes, Elchanan,” Samaira says, testing his name for herself on her tongue. It is a curious name, and her smoky accent gives it a more foreign lilt than she’s sure it is meant to have. He is taller than she, but her baroque build contrasts against his doll-like features and fine lines. If he is the bright, ethereal sky she is the earth, warm and brown and solid.

“My name is,” she begins to speak, but then Alaunus is there in her thoughts again. “Samaira…” the young heron fidgets by her hip, and she can feel the feathers of his wings brushing against her leg as he ruffles them in uncertainy. She finishes, irregardless of her bonded’s reservations, “Samaira.” Her heart craves this interaction. Being alone so long, all she wants is to reach out. “Don’t worry, Alaunus, it’s alright,” the woman says across their bond, attempting to comfort the heron.

“I hope we aren’t disturbing you?”

@Elchanan