Nothing more than a gentle tap, a touch mothers use upon their newest young to guide them along, that sends haywire messages down the invisible thread that links her heart to the snow and cold air. Offering nothing more but relief, time to wallow in her own sickness of the heart and feel the burn of lost memories. Each memory spends time eating at her, the gap she holds unsettling, nerve-wracking, all the words to describe it, emptiness.
Truthfully, it must be unhealthy to hold such vast, wide open spaces for her young mind, and she, in every desperate attempt that's simple to understand, tries to fill that spot.
She fills the seconds with how the feathers came along. They came in some odd moment that left her with a band of birds. In her natural way, she gathered them in and took them with her. The now fading blood stains on the gold and black pair lie to this thought. She guesses those came in when she picked them up off the ground in a rude way. A faint memory of Adrixaura-and oh, how much she has come to miss the sweet scent of her mother and her warmth- telling her not to pick up items from the earth passes about her speeding thoughts. She was never much for listening to the black and white women, but now the idea of her mother's harsh voice is nothing but something that tries to bring her here more.
The world around the frozen caves smells of the Basin and something she can't remember. It touches her breath and bullies her nostrils in a bittersweet way that sends her heart hurdling down into pit more. It must lay somewhere cramped, it aches a painful wail.
They greet her in the exact way they had always done: blank stares that show they care not if her presence is here or not, watching with the deep shades of blue with motionless eyes with ears pushed out towards the world. A huff passes about her when her chest heaves hard.
"Home, sweet home."
She stinks of the scent of the Dragon's Throat, making this more of a lie.
Her pace is slow and collected, steady across the earth unaffected by the warming airs that would get one if they were to head south. The cool air that sweeps ghostly fingers across her honey coloured body, pulls back her locks and tosses them about. Her eyes shut briefly, shutting out the harshness of facing the confused elements.
With nothing but a whisper to herself, something about those that she knew but not understandable, her legs already beneath her and her belly grazing against the floor. She hits it with a sigh of relief, the thin glow of her horn igniting the walls and her reflection casted towards it.

@[Sacre]

If you could hear me then, can you hear me now?