As she ran, Kahlua called once more upon the gift that the moon goddess had given her to use, at least for a short time. Her body was enveloped with mists, her hooves seeming to float over the ground instead of strike it. She was thankful. There was no way she could have kept up the pace at which she now moved if she had been running with her own power. She galloped, each step taking her farther from the blackness that had begun to spread over the Frostbreath Steppe but not bringing her any farther from her fear. She never should have left the Edge, never should have gone exploring in the mysterious icy North, and yet she had, and nothing but evil had befallen her. And so she ran back to safety, back to a home behind a glass wall that would love her forever.

As she found the entrance way through the glass barrier she had created, the girl never slowed. As a misty apparition she was brilliantly agile, floating around the trees with the grace of a dancer. She needed to find somebody. Who? Kaj? Would he even speak to her now? He had seemed intent on ignoring her the best he could. Mirage? Kahlua was sure she was once again busy, doing something far more important than the painted mare could understand. Resplendence? Quilyan? She searched her brain, trying to decide on a name to call out. Fortunately, she did not have to pick one. A voice rang out above the rest, calling to the Edge, warning them of evil in the Marsh. Kahlua headed towards the sound, never slowing until she caught sight of the black Wing Lead.

Her body stopped in eery silence, the girl forgetting for the moment that she was draped in a misty covering, making herself look more like spectre than reality. But her voice could not be mistaken. It was the same soprano she always had, though there was a darkness to it that betrayed her fear. “The Steppe, the steppe,” she panted out, though she had no reason to. Her body was not tired, she did not fatigue when she was one with the foggy air. No, she panted for fear, for straight terror, at the blackness she had saw. And so she took several deep breathes, stepping closer to Destrier because she needed the comfort and she didn't see any others around that she could like to cuddle close to. “There is evil blackness in the Steppe,” she repeated again, insistent. She didn't understand what she had seen, but she understood it was imperative to deliver the information. And deliver it she had, but delivery could not erase the tremors of her heart. She was wrecked. She knew she would not sleep this night.