"Some of us are more prone to it than others, it seems. It would appear as though its presence is rather inevitable."

Ree gave an agreeable toss of her head, the gesture accompanied by a soft, windy laugh rolling past parted lips. A gleam entered her gilded brown eyes that had not previously been there, something part mischievous, part amusement. She could not deny that the winged roan was nothing but right. Ree felt a sense of normality ebb back into her at this new found amity, a remedy for muscles that had previously been taught and coiled with tension and an elixir of life for bones wary and heavy with the hardships of travel. The sense of unease that often followed her in any new endeavor subsided enough to allow her racing mind to slow itself little by little. Again the memories and unwanted thoughts of before can be shuffled, shifted and put back in their proper place. That sad ache that habitually defined their presence recedes to a nearly unnoticeable twinge, something much more manageable. Something that can, for the most part, be completely ignored.

< font color="f0a25c">“Cassiopeia,” Ree mirrors the name aptly, a near melodious sound, < font color="f0a25c">“The pleasure is mine.”

A breeze drifts at her back, rustling the many branches of the surrounding trees, creating a crackling, whispering trill of wood and leaves on the winter air. The sunlight shimmers and dances its way down from the canopy above, alighting on the two mare’s coats with a warming radiance against the biting cold. Ree can’t help but return her attention to the beautiful, gleaming feathers of the wings that are perched upon Cassiopeia’s lithe back. The bay mare is encompassed by part jealously, part wonder, but she manages to draw her eyes away before her staring reached the point of intrusive. At the question of her origins her ears twitch, flick forward and shift thoughtfully, curiosity given rise at the talk of herd lands. It makes Ree realize she hadn’t thought much past her original goal, which was to travel for as far and long as she could without looking back.

She hadn’t expected to make it this far.

“From a place far enough away I have hoped to leave all the memories of it behind.” Vague though her answer may be, Ree can’t help but get the notion that this new friend isn’t the type to push or prod. She wills that this answer, though lacking specifics of any sort, will be enough to temporarily assuage any fears or uncertainties of her motivations. “As for these herd lands you speak of… I haven’t any preplanned notions of where I am headed. Up until now, fate and chance have been my humble guides.”

The information the winged mare has provided has spun Ree’s thoughts in another direction entirely. She quietly ruminates on what she has just said, almost unnerved at how true the words had been. Being someone built on a foundation of preparation, concise structure and unwavering authority, it was uncannily uncharacteristic that she had essentially thrown herself to fortune’s wolves. And here she stood, still physically in one piece, despite the lingering doubts of her emotional stability. But Ree would not complain, it was more than she had initially hoped for, and for now that was enough.

“Tell me more of this Helovia in which we stand.” Ree’s inquiry leaps from her throat in a quick and abrupt trill of feminine vocals. Her words are sudden and sharp and filled with an impulsive spark of inquisitiveness, a hunger for knowledge, “I am the stranger here, and to be quite frank the unknown and the nameless are things I take no comfort in. I lack the same conviction of certainty I sustained during my youth. I am learning to accept change, a feeling I am still growing accustom to. Perhaps you can point me in the right direction.”

History books are the resting places of stories that tell the tales of wayward wanderers who had trusted their wellbeing to strangers, much to their folly. Ree doesn’t doubt that there are dangers in doing such things, but with nothing left to lose, she allows her previous framework of carefully configured logic dissolve and give way to a creature who has the a newly acquired taste for risk.

"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep. "

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