A FALLING STAR FELL FROM YOUR HEART
AND LANDED IN MY EYES
The forest was so different compared to what she was used to. The dunes of her homeland were a fond memory now, and she was realizing how strangely okay with that she was. She missed the heat of the sun on her back as she napped in the sand, but she had to admit the chill that tickled her skin now was nice too. Whenever her father had returned from his trips north he returned with a fuzzy coat. He was always so soft and fluffy, and she wondered if she would grow one too. Rilke's coat was different than hers and she resisted the temptation to reach out with her nose to see just how soft it was.
Zaira's eyes go wide, "No ill intentions here, I promise." Her home had been raided once or twice, but never by a tiny little red mare. She wondered if she looked threatening, or had to the capacity to look threatening. (Not that she would ever want to be! But it was a curious thing to consider, she decided.)
She listens, ears pushed so far forward it looks like they might snap off, as he explains the circumstance of the butterflies of his home. There is initial disappointment on her face as Rilke explains she won't find many this time of the year. She cannot help but feel saddened but unsurprised and she casts her gaze down for a moment as she considers what to do now.
"You are welcome to stay here, if you like, to see them flourish next spring." His offer is kind and he lifts her gaze back to his, ears pressing forward again. A little part of her wonders if she is being silly, putting such a big decision on butterflies, but she cannot see any malice in his eyes when he looks at her. There is something about him that makes her feel safe, but not like a prisoner as her family's home had been. Her cage had been beautiful deserts and endless sand, but it had still been a cage. Like those butterflies she had wanted so badly to be free. And when she had awoken on the shores it had been as much a blessing as a curse.
And like the butterflies, she makes a choice for herself. Really, truly for herself.
"I would love to stay here, Rilke, thank you." And she smiled all the way to her eyes.
New experiences aside, Zaira was always the curious sort. Even now in a new element, she found herself wondering about everything. "What can you tell me about the forest?" She takes a few steps away toward a particularly large tree and presses her quivering nostrils to the bark, tracing the intricate pattern. Zaira looks back at him over her shoulder, "What is your favorite place? That you don't mind sharing, of course." |
|