Inside a grim, Frostfall-white forest, Maren's figure passed silhouette after silhouette. Shadows formed from tall, dire trees. Their branches following the same road — or pointing into the direction she had come - As a misleading indication for telling her where to go. She let her legs carry on, turn around and stop as they pleased, because she wasn’t here to get lost, just like she wasn’t here to not.
The tiger striped mare was simply wandering: In thought; without caring about any one of the few stray snowflakes that fell onto her thick, rust-colored hide — Without caring which direction the forest did or did not try to make her follow its desired, spiraling route. Destination had never mattered in the past and there was no reason to make it matter now. The only things that did were the cold outside of her winter-coat, the fluffy shapes of clouds growing and fading from her nostrils as she went, pushed outwards by her mist-magic more than the usual.
And the thoughts.
There were always the thoughts.
Maren's silent gaze was pointed forward; seeing but not really seeing the end of the road as her thinking mind obscured her vision. Observation wasn't her strong point. The science of reasoning was, so she gladly let her focus be taken away by it. Welcomed it.
Yet, as if it had made her wake up in the first place, her enlivening eyes watched something ascend. The mysterious silhouette flew down from the cloudy sky into an area that was only separated from Maren by a wall of trees and a sea of bushes. In Maren's mind a bell started to ring. Not particularly the same as an alarm, but it did make her realize that she had somehow gotten herself back into the threshold. How long has it been since I was here last? She had no reason to be here and never had but that one first time. But as she, for some reason had found herself here, she couldn't just ignore a random Pegasus dip down in their land they called Helovia, either. She would need to at least take a look… Or that was what the Dragon's Throat would like her to do, anyway. “Must recruit”, she already heard the voice of Gaucho say in the back of her mind. And it surely would all the way back to the desert, she was sure, if she didn’t give the newly arrived creature a chance to find their herd-land.
Maren was just managing her flexible figure through the last part of the green branches and leaves, when she saw a rabbit slip straight past her. Maren followed it with an intrigued expression as it escaped and disappeared into the shadows, before turning her eyes and folding her ears back towards the direction she was going. Noises had erupted from the area and, since she did not recognize their origins, maybe there really were souls who were in need of a home — like she had been... then.
"Well... Moving only warms up the body,” she protested with a grim, why-would-you-even-say that voice as she pushed away the last branch with a slightly irritated push of her right wing. “But…” she started her sentence as she dragged herself out from underneath the greenery (With her dragging along frostbitten twigs and leaves as she did). She attempted to shake off any bits of left-over forest, before turning her gaze from the tall white mare to the winged filly. She was covered in clusters of ice. “—...If it is warmth you seek, my herd lives in the desert and I am sure they would welcome you.” Maren’s outlandish tunes carried from her lips as the feathered fingers that grew outside the sides of her head twitched and cringed in the cold as they felt the touch of the frigid breeze. They tucked themselves neatly against the dent in her neck to keep warm as the mare blew out a cloudy sigh.
Of course Maren would want to give more information about her herd, but she had found that foals did not have that long of an attention span, anyway. Next to that the tiger mare didn’t exactly enjoy foals in the first place. They were needy, unpredictable and needlessly over enthusiastic at the most inconvenient of times. Also their inability to appreciate learning was frustrating. Yet, she could not deny that they were the best when it came to listening to the stories she liked to tell.
“Ah, I am the Diviner of the Dragon’s Throat, Maren. Nice meeting you,” her always so silent golden eyes rested on the mare, who she did not know. And, randomly, her mind couldn’t help but circle around the idea; What if it had been her I had stumbled upon, when I first entered Helovia?
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Welcome Mar! (:
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