Frustration was evident in the drop of her hooves as they clipped into the ground, and even more so by her narrowed charcoal stare. It was as if she was daring anything to distract her from it, or challenging the trees, the earth, sun, or sky to change her mind on the issue. Nothing could, not the beautiful golden, and red hue of the trees, a blue cut sky, or the crisp air of Orangemoon. A swish of her red locks to her hip, her teeth ground once in a horrible manner to stop her damned thoughts. If only there was a hole where her heart was. The fickle thing it was, life would be much simpler if she was en empty void. Silent curses were ushered in her breath, because she was hell bent to come out of this state.

The further she traveled from the familiar forest the easier the trip became. Her rigid body began to relax, each stride more fluid with the grace she possessed. It was with the changing of scenery she started taking in the world around her instead of the one crushing her brain. Faelene was not only admiring the beauty, she was attentively watching for danger, for the enemy.

A rushed snort, she pushed her weathered body onward. There was something driving he forward, and she was a bi hesitant to find out what or who. She was conflicted about seeing him again because it could be the a nail to her coffin. She was never going to be able to stand on the other side of things, those she had been against. There began a mixture of hatred and want that would pool into her blood with a thirst for revenge. It was easily tucked beneath her shadowed hide, because she would bid her time in this. The Threshold came into view, her memories here did not quite seem like her own. What had happened to the escaped slave afraid of being caught? Had she died or been taken captive by this zealous creature she was now? What a fine line she was treading between polar things of fear, and hate. Now she had even deeper reasons for wanting to change things.

Eyes scoping the trees, trying to be on the look out for the winged or the hornless, her movement became more defensive, if she was being followed by a hunter. Her ears were quick to snap back, and forward. The red maned lady's gait a prance as if dancing on top of fire. She would head in one direction, she would quickly shift to the other. The battle had made her a bit more paranoid once again, but she had no mind to run from her enemies here.

When a stallion's bugle of want broke across what had been fairly quiet, Faelene froze in her tracks, letting her eyes dart around the terra. The call was she wasn't sure if it was really calling to her, but she found herself answering it. She had to see any way if it as one of her kind.

When she pinpointed it, she was pleasantly surprised to see the chestnut stallion with an ivory horn drawing from the mix of red and white locks, and light marked face. Taking some seconds to let her eyes wander further she had never seen any painted in that way. What was more was the certain cut of muscle, yet grace that carved his form. It had been his call to get her attention, and it had spoken something strong of his spirit. "You called?" She would ask directly, her tone indifferent, while there was a spark of interest to her eyes.