A sickly aroma permeated the atmosphere: the thick, intoxicating scent of smoke and charred foliage. The damage had - without the slightest hint of dubiety - been wrought by a licking flame, undoubtedly the product of the Sun God's wrath. The crisp, dehydrated vegetation that mantled Helovia had become much like a massive tenderbox, patiently awaiting the next spark of lightning or flash point to ignite into a blazing inferno.
Despite the darkness and fleeting reign the moon held over the world, the infliction induced by the oppressing sun was still quite prevalent. The heat, however, remained throughout the hours of darkness as a mere inkling of the intensity it held during the day. It provided the children of Helovia with a compelling - however brief - reprieve.
The roan dame cherished it. She had always been drawn to moonlight, to the stars. It was the time in which her magic evoked the most potency, her astral creations enlivened and farther repleted with artificial life. To Cassiopeia, they were living. She was simply the outlet to which their aliveness was revealed to the world, endowed with all their rightful beauty and ethereal appeal. And so it was only natural that she had chosen to animate another celestial companion to accompany her on this night - one not so often summoned from the heavenly forests of space, though far from lacking in grandeur and enthrallment.
It was Lupus, the supernal wolf, crafted by divine hands and composed of all the opalescence and mystery of the cosmos - a mystical creature, running gracefully alongside the dame of stars of wind. It was a melodious cacophony of thrumming hoof beats and the disembodied voice of the wind, whispering gently into slender, lobed ears.
Her legs pumped in the rhythm of a soft canter, her body maneuvering through the palisade of timber with profound ease. There was a supple geometry to the arc of her body, a fish bending through a current. Her eyes were fixed on the terrain before her, heeding every obstacle, but something else as well. There stood a figure, a pale silhouette, its conformations illuminated by the silvery light of the moon. Intrigued, she slowed her pace.
Lupus ahead of her, she made her way toward the stranger, curiously watching him. With an echoing howl - more anomalous than one composed by a terrestrial wolf - he withdrew his body from the clearing, Cassiopeia following not far behind. She dipped her head, her eyes never leaving the pale steed. "Greetings." The ghostly eyes of the lupine creature at her hooves were fixed upon the stranger, though not dangerously. "Welcome to Helovia."
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