She knows this place. She knows this place allegedly. Maybe in theory, but in practice? Only the stories. It's not her home-- it hasn't been. The Savanna had borne her, but the sea had brought her up. Both parents lost to the wind, Róta didn't know where else to go. What else to do. It's autumn when she arrives back to the Islands, back to the place that had created her. Though she doesn't exactly know why, there's a magnetism. Something bringing her back, drawing her in for reasons unknown.
With a high head, the bay mare's sharp gaze settles on the Common. Dragging herself out of the sea and the murk, watching it slough off her dark coat. Shining in the fading light, watching as daylight begins to slip below the surface. It would be dark soon. Everything about Róta is sharp as she drinks in the Commons.
Everything in the air is tense, especially here. She's not stupid-- the girl knows why. Oh how she knows. Her gait is lofted, near-floating as she takes on exploring it. Drinking in the chilly afternoon air, truly taking it all in. To know a place, and not know it at all... she would learn. Róta would learn in time. Soon, she would be able to branch out further.
4 years. swedish warmblood x. bay sabino splash. 16.0
Viđarr x Eirlys
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