The World’s Edge quickly proved more hospitable than its name may have suggested. Though it was not my forest, I forgave its flaws. Perhaps the taste of spring in the air persuaded me to better humor than was usual – or perhaps I was merely improved by events of past days, the reunion of my wretched self and a good friend, the discovery of a place where I belonged, the peace of tedium returning to my life. Though rangy yet and a little stiff under my blanket of winter hair, I moved easily through the forest. Only a few days previous, I had discovered a proliferation of small springs bubbling up from the ground, here and there. Discovering more proved an intellectual challenge befitting a younger creature, but I felt a rare surge of satisfaction as I stumbled upon another, wondering all the while what fed them – some network of underground rivers? Or magic, perhaps? I recalled briefly the sight of the great wall, its impressive façade marred by damage, and supposed the inhabitants of the Edge must be skilled magic users beyond healing. Alongside them, I felt shabby – plain.

     The sound of a voice not far-off drew my attention from mundane pursuits. I did not clearly recognize the noise, though I was hardly surprised. Of the herd gathered within these trees, I knew only Evangeline that well – a situation that ought to be remedied. Slowly, then, I turned in the direction of the call and moved, hoping I would not find myself an intruder upon arrival. It held the sound of no specific name; I still measured my steps to a leisurely stride, apprehension biting at my thoughts. Had I become so reclusive in my time alone? So timid? I had shouted at kings and peasants alike – but in another life. With a small sigh, I broke through the trees, eyes resting on a pair of familiar figures, now I had them in sight: spotted mares, one winged. My mood softened by degrees; I recognized them both, though only recalled Kahlua by name – my new queen. She and the other mare appeared to be in conversation; stymied by the proximity, curious only slightly about whatever the pegasus shuffled on her back, I paused several strides away, near enough that I might speak normally but far enough to pose no threat.

     ”Kahlua.” A small nod of the head, respectful enough. I had grown manners, at some time far in the past. They had, like much else, begun to decay over time. Less comfortably, I glanced at the other mare. ”I do not recall your name, but I believe we have met – under less fortunate circumstances.” Simpering, I cocked my head. ”Good to see you about. I hope I am not interrupting?” I could go no farther in asking about the subject of their conversation, though I found myself immensely curious. How irritating, to be at the bottom of the pecking order again… I found myself chafing against my thin veneer of civility, though neither mare had caused me insult. It was merely – I had long been alone, or else a figure of authority. And yet before them I stood powerless and shabby, impressive to none. Defeat was bitter in the back of my mouth, even if it had been sown quite long ago, and my own actions.