“It can be.” Baba Yaga let out a breath, a smile lining her lips. Being like the wind or even the breeze could be very lonely. It meant she had to roam, to always be moving. With her inability to be comfortable just standing still for most of the time, it suited her though. With a wandering heart and the loyalty of home, Baba Yaga was a complex one deep down. She always had to move and nowhere fully felt like home. No place in the world would be that place for her. However, there would be someone hopefully that would be her home. To pick a person that could be her ground and keep her thinking instead of just flowing would be something grand. It would take time, but maybe she would find that in the future.

Letting her eyes flick over the mare slowly, Baba Yaga thinks for a minute. “I do get tired.” Her words were slow, as if she never once wanted to actually speak them. Her ears twitched, as if they wanted to lay down at her own revelation. Letting out a breath, she shrugged her shoulders. “I think I am always tired.” She finally muttered before looking up at the canopy of the tree. “It's hard not to be when you have this need to always do something.” Which was true with her. Baba Yaga, for all intents and purposes, was a mover. Her soul could not handle being at rest and it made her blood boil most of the time. The need to just enjoy life was there, but the beckoning of her wandering heart was always at the forefront of her mind. “What does one do… when their heart and soul just want to move all the time though?”