Arandolya The only limit is the Stars . . . Timestamp: Summer 30, 512 AV The noise was huge, the screams piercing. It all cloaked the red-haired in an overwhelming display of the passion the Inartans had to their Wind Eagles. They all screamed in delight, breaking the streak of mourning they all went through upon first discovering the crushed eggs. Honey eyes swept the crowds, searching for anyone familiar, though they rested on none but ecstatic faces, some crying, some cheering, mostly both. Arandolya suppressed a frown, wearing the proud smile society called for. "Hail be," she said politely to every Inarta who told her the good news, although everyone knew. She exchanged many hugs, with complete strangers, with the amusing lax attitude towards personal space the Inarta possessed. She was becoming irritated though, everything becoming too much. Her much more passive personality conflicted with this large, brash party. Of course she was thrilled of the news of a new egg, but Arandolya began to feel she was drowning within the glee of everyone else. Slowly backing out of the crowds, the honey-eyed Avora made a quick escape. She slipped past the drunk ones, and dancing ones, and flirty ones. The girl just wanted the peace and quiet of the Skyinarta, though as she entered, the noise never dimmed, much to her dismay. The inside of the mountain was equally as loud, and she placed pale hands over her ears, frowning. Arandolya retreated, but felt blocked, and trapped. With a deep breath, she looked around herself. In minutes, she was up to her room, gathering her hunting equipment, and back out. Arandolya breathed out thankfully as she melted past the crowds, out to Gate and down into the surrounding forest. Her feet fell quietly, cushioned by soft shoes. She chose to leave her Kantinu at home, judging it warm enough to venture out simply dressed in her Bryda and Vinati. Stringing her bow as she went, she ran a hand down the comforting line of smooth wood. The Avora found quiet peace in it, and let her mind settle into the gentle rhythm of a nice hunt. As she diverted from the path to venture into the woods, her hands kept an arrow nocked, and golden eyes scanned the undergrowth. Arandolya walked as quietly as she could, feet shifting to not crack on fallen twigs and instead land on moss or pine needles. Hearing a rustle, Arandolya whirled, and her arrow pointed into the brush. A flash of familiar red though halted her bow, and Arandolya lowered it cautiously. "Hello?" she called softly, unaware she was sharing the woods with someone. The girl pushed past the full foliage of the trees, seeking the red she saw. Red hair. Inarta. |