Autumn storms are easily the worst storms of all. A thought was caught by a sudden gust of wind and whisked away as quickly as it had come. A snow-white mare trudged sullenly through the rather damp night, her large wings folded tightly to her bodice. A shiver ran down the length of her spine as another gust of wind sent a torrent of icy rain down her nape. She tried to use the trees as cover - in a lighter storm, this tactic may have worked - but as the night grew wilder, the dense cover was more of a hassle than help. The leaves pooled water, cold water, and it came down in torrents rather than the usual droplets. The femme glared at the sky, bi-colored orbs dull. Her annoyance was rewarded by a slap of liquid splashing onto her forehead. Ugh.

Her pelt, though damp and somewhat grey, now that her dark skin was showing through, seemed to absorb what little light there was in the bleak evening storm, particularly when lightning lit the clouded sky. An uncomfortable sigh; any others who wandered the night would see her coming from a mile away. And who knew who would target her? Her wings had marked her in her past life - a flash of pain flared to life in her eyes, and she shook her head. Instant regret filled the mare as her soaked banner sent frigid drops everywhere. Another shiver.

And where was the fae to hide, on a night like this? Wet wings aren't for flying, not good flying, anyway, and she wasn't about to jump into a tree to wait it out. She was much safer on the ground, away from the electricity lighting the world from the storm. A look around gave her no consolation. There was nothing but the storm to provide light. But wait - another glance - there was something off to her right, through the trees. The kind of light glow that her own pelt shone with. She hesitated. She didn't know who this stranger might be, nor what they may be capable of. But then, if she saw them, they definitely saw her. Her whole pelt was white, and they only had a part - what part, she wasn't sure - that was a beacon in the night.

The femme sighed. She may as well go say hello, lest they reach her first. And they might be able to direct her in the way of shelter, though she doubted it, if they were out on a night such as this. Resigned, she picked her way carefully through the brush. She began to make out a rough silhouette. A relatively dark pelt - she was unsure of the exact color - and a light mane and tail. So that's what she saw, then. Well, that and the creature that curled upon the other's back. She swallowed. Was that a dragon? Reaching the equine, the white pegasus spoke, hoping her voice would be audible over the thunder and the rain. "'Lo, stranger." Despite the disgusting night, she smiled. "I suppose if you knew of cover, you would be under it, on a night such as this?"