A deep breath inward brought the scents of fresh mountain air and young spring flowers to his nose. Despite the darkness that had plagued the land for so many nights, despite the struggles of his herd and the personal losses he had faced throughout the endless night, the return of the sun seemed to wash that all away. Nothing could compare to the warm rays of gold that still boldly fought their way through the fog. Soon enough, the heat would burn away the thick vapour and the fields would be left beneath a sky of unbroken blue. Even the low cloud that hung around the base of the mountain would surely disappear. His spirits were far too high for rain. He would not allow the weather to dampen his mood.

He had been to the fields many times, though each of his visits stood out to him as significant in some way. Many, many months ago, he had helped an old mare return to the skies after having spent much of the latter part of her life grounded. He had sparred with a noble mare of the Throat, and later had encountered her in the darkness on much more peaceful terms. He had also taught a young filly to fly. And today, he decided he would make yet another good memory. Once more, he would find himself returning to the Foothills with content in his heart as opposed to the emptiness he had grown so used to.

Perfectly timed to the thoughts running through his head, a voice called out through the fog. Murdock turned his head, searching through the thick, grey veil for any sign of who had called him. Unbeknownst to him, the mare was approaching from behind. He stared into the swirling mist, his mind suddenly recalling the strange creature he had seen formed by the clouds. Was it really just a trick of his mind? Was truly 'going off the deep end', as they said? In the depths of the fog, he could have sworn he saw movement. A faint shadow slipped across his vision, but as soon as it had appeared, it was gone.

He lowered his gaze to the ground, where the golden grass was interrupted by small wildflowers. Truly he could not have imagined the voice. The shadows? Perhaps his mind was tired and he was simply distracted. But hearing things? That was simply too much. Fortunately, the sound of footfalls from behind him caught his attention, and Murdock turned his head. A white mare emerged from the fog, her expression innocent and curious. She was the one who had called out.

Relief flooded through him. "Hello," he responded softly, after the pace of his heart had settled. He turned to face her, his gaze tracing over her body for a moment before returning to her face. Her scent was strange, so very different from that of the north or the sands of the south or any forest he had ever been to. Perhaps she was a stranger to Helovia, or maybe the faint scent of the sea that clung to her coat indicated that she was a member of the Edge. He had never had the fortune of meeting a member of that herd before. "I'm Murdock, General of the Foothills. And you are?" He dipped his head politely, bending one knee in a slight bow. Perhaps she would be the one to brighten his day.

"talk talk talk"

@[Brisa]