Hadand has tried hard to avoid picturing home. She still misses it acutely, however much she's coming to care for members of Voyager's crew, especially the man sitting across from her now. Finally, with Chakotay's voice in her ears, she gives herself permission.
A soft gasp slips out before she can help it at the sight, even if it's all in her mind, of the plains she's been longing for. Hadand inhales deeply, relishing the smell of grass, the one scent that makes her think of home even more strongly than that of bread baking. She wanted this. Before she even looks for the nearest animal, she has to take a moment to appreciate the sensation of being back where she always belonged.
But she's here for a reason, and almost reluctantly, she turns, eyes alert for any movement. At first, all she sees is the swaying of grass in a gentle breeze. Then she hears hoofbeats and makes another quarter turn.
She doesn't know the name to put to the creature. A horse is new. But hoofbeats on the ground are such a familiar sound that her very first instinct is to vault onto his back and gallop away across the gentle hills. Hadand misses her own mount almost as much as she misses her mother and all the other people she left behind.
Something tells her that trying to ride her animal guide, especially uninvited, would be almost as offensive as attacking him. Hadand sighs almost reluctantly as she steps closer, extending one hand to be sniffed as she would with any animal at home. She thinks that this is probably respectful enough. It's the way she was always taught to show respect to the animals of her own world, at least.
Even with the distractions of home and horse in her mind, Hadand is very aware of Chakotay's presence. His voice forms a backdrop to all of it. Her chest tightens almost painfully at the realization that the sound of his voice makes this vision feel even more like home than the real plains of her own world would now. He has become that much a part of her. "I've met him," she tells Chakotay quietly.
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A soft gasp slips out before she can help it at the sight, even if it's all in her mind, of the plains she's been longing for. Hadand inhales deeply, relishing the smell of grass, the one scent that makes her think of home even more strongly than that of bread baking. She wanted this. Before she even looks for the nearest animal, she has to take a moment to appreciate the sensation of being back where she always belonged.
But she's here for a reason, and almost reluctantly, she turns, eyes alert for any movement. At first, all she sees is the swaying of grass in a gentle breeze. Then she hears hoofbeats and makes another quarter turn.
She doesn't know the name to put to the creature. A horse is new. But hoofbeats on the ground are such a familiar sound that her very first instinct is to vault onto his back and gallop away across the gentle hills. Hadand misses her own mount almost as much as she misses her mother and all the other people she left behind.
Something tells her that trying to ride her animal guide, especially uninvited, would be almost as offensive as attacking him. Hadand sighs almost reluctantly as she steps closer, extending one hand to be sniffed as she would with any animal at home. She thinks that this is probably respectful enough. It's the way she was always taught to show respect to the animals of her own world, at least.
Even with the distractions of home and horse in her mind, Hadand is very aware of Chakotay's presence. His voice forms a backdrop to all of it. Her chest tightens almost painfully at the realization that the sound of his voice makes this vision feel even more like home than the real plains of her own world would now. He has become that much a part of her. "I've met him," she tells Chakotay quietly.