His voice is quiet, almost like a whisper, and Zira instinctively draws her head closer to catch what he said. Her head tilts slightly, ears snapping to attention. "I made it here alive, at least," he says and Zira's brow furrows slightly. He smells of nothing she had encountered on the islands thus far, beneath the sting of the salt on her nostrils. Part of her wants to ask him all about wherever it was he came from. She yearns to know what else is out there. The Savanna had been her savior but that did not mean it would always welcome her with such open arms. She was not a fool who thought she was untouchable simply because she had claimed herself a land. Admittedly, Zira had not done anything yet that made her worthy of such a title. She'd yet to call herself Queen of the Savanna out loud, and she doubted if she ever would. To her, the Savanna was her Queen and she would serve it dutifully as she could. Her lips tighten, steeling her mouth from the prying she so desperately wants to do.
Before Zira has a chance to reply after her self-imposed pause he leans down for a mouthful of snow. She startles when he shudders, taking a step back and assuming an almost defensive position, her knees locked and legs solid on the earth. The fear and anger in her eyes quickly turns to embarrassment and Zira quickly clears her throat, taking the space back that she had made between them. Her dark gaze is downcast, feeling foolish that she thought such a frail stranger would turn on her so quickly. "Better to be prepared," she thinks, reassuring herself.
He seems content to stop and Zira draws her head up and back, peering over the stallions lean back to make sure there was no one lurking in the shadows. He reminded her of the injured deer she had seen ravaged by the wolves of the mainland, though she keeps such a thought to herself. "You remind me of a shivering fawn" was best kept to herself, she thinks.
"You are cold," she assesses, as if it wasn't obvious from his chattering and shivering. Zira would be lying if she had said she wasn't cold herself, but she had grown up on this island. She follows his gaze to the lightening sky, smiling up at the vanishing stars. As beautiful as they were, speckled across the dark sky, it was their absence that made each night so wonderful. "The sun will help," she offers, an attempt at reassurance. As much as she wanted to help, to save, to be something-- it was not something she had done yet. If wishes were horses her herd would be thriving. Instead it was mostly empty, the Savanna quiet as a summer's breeze.
Zira looks at him again, uncertainty on her face. She desperately wants to tell him of the Savanna. It would be better for him, she thinks. It was cold in the winter but certainly not like this. She fears how he'd fare if he ended up on Tinuvel. But truthfully she doesn't know how to bring it up. Or if he'd even survive another swim so soon. She chews her lip, scrunching her nostrils slightly. "Val," she starts, offering an olive branch. It's what his friends would call him. "I'm your friend" she says, without words, hoping he understands. "When you are up to it," she pauses, eyes flitting to the deep carvings in his side, like the bars of her once prison. "There is an island to the east, Luthien it is called. You could come there. Just to get your strength back, or to stay." She doesn't mention the Savanna is hers. She wanted him to join her because he wanted to, not because he felt he had to.
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| ATTICUS X VITANI | 17.1HH | PALOMINO | OF THE SAVANNA | KIWI |
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