She is not what anyone might expect, really, when seeing what amounted to a young adult. She had not spent much time with other horses at all, save that first formative year of life. She knew what it meant to be ‘horse’, of course, but nothing could have prepared her for the intricacies of what these islands thought was common practice. She is utterly fresh, so painfully new. She looks it, every bit, when her un-corned roan body steps from beneath the waters to give way to her new, temporary maybe, friend.
She sees the eyes of her female companion first, averting her gaze immediately when she sees that this too might very well be a traveling seer like her glenna. Her friend seems thirsty and shortly thereafter relieved. Drinking the cold water had not appealed to her at first, but she takes a small sip as her companion talks. Sips, that is, before she is chattering and apologizing - instincts so relieved for the companionship that she doesn’t realize till too late that she had run off with the conversation.
"I’m afraid I have not heard of any sisterhood; I spent much of my childhood alone, and almost all of my adulthood similarly. Truthfully, I don’t think I understand what a sisterhood is." Elain smiles sadly, as if already assuming that such a lack of sisterhood should make her companion feel more morose than she actually appears. It never occurs to her that relke simply had lived the same way her own self had done-- only for longer. "Is Glenna on this island as well?"
"Oh yes," she affirms, "though she does not know I follow in her wake." She looks a little ashamed at that, but frankly her companion introduces herself soon enough that she needs not speak to her shame. "My name is Relke, by the way." She tilts her head, extending a graceful neck out towards Relke with little regard to any social bubble - as though anyone would be glad to exchange a breath, stranger or no. "I am called Elain. It has been a long time since anyo--."
An intruder happens upon their bathing and she snaps her head towards the beast in the same moment as she swung her hindquarters back beneath the rush of the falling water. The other creature splashes carelessly, but it does not keep the wind from trading the scent of Relke with the one of this--- what is it? It does smell like them, but underneath, something coils in her gut and her shoulder flesh flickers with her new curiosity. "I am Rille," the stranger offers, confident and comfortable despite smelling utterly off and unusual.
"She seems… she smells unusual… and what is it that has happened to her voice?" she asks her less-new friend in a tone that she hoped might not quite reach the poor mare whose scent put her so off her usual friendly openness.
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