Truthfully, Zira never expected she'd ever want to return to the mainland. Luthien had provided her with something she had never had before. A home. A home that she wasn't a prisoner in, screaming at the shore until her voice ran hoarse. She had fled from the lagoon as soon as she had been able, hiding away in the Prairie. She'd met the son of the leader and he was nice. Too nice. It was strange and foreign and it made her heart hammer and her cheeks run hot, but she pushed such fancies aside. It was odd and she didn't like it. She'd lurked along the outskirts of Luthien's territories for a year, remaining as isolated as she had before. But eventually she had stopped looking over her shoulder, eventually she had dropped her guard.
She loved the Savanna. It was dry and bright, the exact opposite of the stagnant waters and brown mud of the lagoon. To her it was freedom and when Kvasir packed his bags and moved on she was the first to strike a claim. She'd spent the first few days learning every inch of the Savanna. Where the best grass was, where a sufficient watering hole was, the best place for a nap. She'd admired the tropical fish along the shore and chased the birds that swooped from acacia to acacia.
And she'd laughed.
Something she hadn't done in a long time. After each passing fancy the golden woman's face would return to sullen and dark, the lines of her face serious. Zira was elegant, tall, and beautiful but there was a darkness that lingered in the corners of her face. And that was the expression the young lead donned as she made her way through the falls. She couldn't smell the acrid scent of sweat and dirty water from here. The lagoon was a distant memory, one that haunted her sleepless nights, but nonetheless was not a monster that could catch her here. She knew the smell well and knew she'd be able to scent it on anyone if they drew close to her.
Zira had been lost to her own thoughts, her mind spinning a million miles a minute when the cry of a child sounded out. She skidded to halt, turning her elegant face in the direction of the sound. Soft brown eyes blinked a few times, taking in the scene before her. The stallion was speckled black and white, his sides lean as if he had not been eating his best. The child's expression was bright like sunshine and Zira feels a pang in her heart. When had she ever been like that? When had she felt such hope? With a quiver of her nostrils she pushes away the notion and steps forward.
"Hello," her voice cracks slightly from disuse and Zira clears her throat with urgency, looking away briefly in embarrassment. She hadn't actually spoken to another horse in some time, save for crying out in the night during the worst of her nightmares. Her hair has grown, golden strands tickling the bright orange-yellow of her throat as it frames either side of her face. "My name is Zira." She doesn't ask who they are. She doesn't know to. She tilts her head, expectantly, watching them both. Her skin twitches slightly, trembling over taut muscles ready to jump away should anything bad happen. She desperately wants something good to happen in her life. Perhaps she could make another friend, like that strange stallion who showed her those magnificent trees. (Truthfully Zira was disappointed to find they did not exist in the Savanna.) But she is ready, always, in case it's another foe. |
| ATTICUS X VITANI | 17.1HH | PALOMINO | THE SAVANNA | KIWI |
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