Solira: The Ocean: Uh uh, I hate you most and no backsies;

It had rained last night. The ground did not hold itself as it would if it had been a dry night. The thickened veil of the atmosphere whispered of its drunken state, filled to the brim with the evaporation of the rain itself. The turmoil beneath her perfectly trimmed hooves gave way underneath her weight, but only slightly, for she was quick on her feet, despite what you would think given her size and stature. The sunlight was just beginning to raise its head over the horizon, slipping into the sky in such a dignified way, blissful and yet still glaring down with the warmth. Already, it was hot and muggy, the depth of the moisture in the air still increasing as the light hit the earth below. She was beautiful to say the least. She walked with a certain terrible perfection about her, glorious and irresistibly gorgeous at the same time. She was hauntingly wonderful as she emerged from the ashes of the ruins of what was left of Solira, the same ruins she would help establish as magnificent, just as they had once been. The luster of the land was truly beginning to welcome her as she spotted the black stallion lingering near to the land's delicate boundaries of ocean and sand. The thickened web of briars and trees and weeds was all that stood between them now. Aquila’s eyes narrowed on them, the Solira citizens, wondering if perhaps their balancing act would indeed work out for the betterment of their home. She was utterly wonderful, truly. Her gaze rested once more on the group of equines nearby, her steady gaze resting on each of the chosen leaders of the group, her stolid gaze as steady as the sun in the sky as it baked the delicious surface of the wonderful earth below. Things were now as they should have always been.

The moment was upon them; the world would be deciding its fate in the coming days. The light of the world was beginning to whisper its stories of fables and histories of ancient cultures and civilizations of fairy tales. It was a great time to be alive, but it was also something of a big mess that now haunted this newly re-established republic. And as Aquila made her way back into the main realm of her home and all of its glory, the great mare made her way towards the crowd with renowned purpose. The landscape soothed her, her eyes closing and she inhaled a deep breath of the cooled winds, which swirled about her magnificent figure. Aquila felt the quiver of excitement from the ocean as she smiled. Her beloved home had gone far too long without the proper care and nurturing and guidance and love... And then her eyes were open again, gliding over Kratos with anything but a tranquil gaze, almost smiling as she spoke, cheshire and coy all the same at his reaction to her.

“Kratos,” Aquila said, observing her companion with a keen eye and that rare smile. ”Courage has told me a lot about you.” And that was when it happened. The clouds were beginning to stretch their fatty fingers of fluffy flesh through the blue sapphire of the world above her. Aquila’s rare colored eyes, flecked with the same avian arrogance as his, turned to spot the clouds above her, and she instantly knew that again the rain would be there sooner rather than later. Now, the white warrior did not mind the rain in the least, actually being a creature that enjoyed the feel of the cold, wet liquid falling upon her skin. She usually relished the slight tingle of surprise and almost painful (though not really) that it brought upon her. But when she looked back to the group, her eyes displayed the harshest of glares, controlled and yet able to scare the paint off of a wall. ”I guess she never really mentioned me. I’m Aquila, Alshain and Genesis’s oldest daugther.” Her eyes, so terrifying as they linger on him, flash with the lightning above at the mention of Alshain. Now, the waters are raging in the eyes of the eagle-mare, rapturous determination fueling her words. ”Why is it I haven’t seen you in Blitzkrieg before?”

The world was different. Something about the air, the atmosphere as it shifted along on its delicate course. It was all a distant memory now, and Aquila did not offer it any condolences for the past that she knew had been difficult.