The idea of reproducing was foreign to me. I remember stories father used to tell us, of how his father had tamed the wild and unruly mare, Naryl, his mother. Azureus had had to fight her, to beat her, to prove himself the dominant beast over her - it sounded like a strange relationship, though father used to say it was simply proof of the passion that tied them together. I remember asking him about what held he and mother together, and he simply laughed, and ruffled y mane with his warm muzzle, merely commenting that perhaps one day I would understand.

I doubted his words.

I doubted everything he ever said to me. How can I trust my memory anymore? It is so faulty, glossing over things that I probably should have remembered, and holding onto ideals that left me feeling empty and broken.

The image of your bloodied body, lying still and broken before me, still clouds most of my memories. There is little else I can hold onto, aside from the time you left me, and took most of my soul with you. I am but a shell, a chassis for the remnants of a broken creature, a deformed and faulty coin, worth little in value and capable of even less.

The Meadow of thistles seemed to be a regular haunt of late. It is a realm for the homeless, the outcasts, the vagabonds and wanderers. I suppose I was one of them now. Aimless, goalless, friendless and hopeless - I was full of everything less ever since you left me, Sitka.

Sun shining, I wandered this vast stretch of land. I guess I was going a variant of North, and it was the weather that told me I was relatively in control of myself - for it was when the weather turned nasty that I knew the turmoil within me had leaked out, staining the environment with its destructive forces.

It was definitely better for those forces to stay locked away, inside me.

A twitch shivered at my shoulder, obviously not caused by cold weather. A sigh flutters through my nostrils, as my sharp, cerulean gaze pierces my surrounds. I walk, seemingly preferring to traverse the lands by foot instead of by air, a reversal to my preference when you were alive, Sitka. It was humbling, for a winged creature to wander the ground using only her hooves, though I would not hesitate to take to the skies again should the need arise.

Movement ahead, the sound of wings fluttering and hooves thumping. I pause, tense, spying what could be anything really - but turns out to be nothing more than a foal. No, two foals. A small smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth, as I watch the (I assume) brothers frolic and play, my form apparently concealed somewhat in the shade of the bordering trees. A chuckle rolls across the meadow, and I divert my attention to the would-be mother, my smile vanishing and the tenseness returning.

It was a reflex, an automatic reaction to anything maternal. I loved my mother, truly I did, but it was easy for me to say I was my father's daughter more. Aside from that, when father died, she fell into a depression too deep for me to save her from, and for whatever reasons she deemed appropriate, she took my sister to her lands of birth. During a time when I needed them most, I only had you.

Now I have no-one.

"Hello," I decide to say, my voice smooth and melodic, almost musical in tone. A smile etches itself upon my lips, though it barely reaches further - there is a sadness, a hollowness that I am sure my eyes betray, no matter the façade I wear. A friendly nicker follows my greeting, as my hooves pull me from the shrubbery. The scent of pines and rocky cliffs meet my nostrils, and I wonder if I have travelled far enough North to happen across some from the Edge.. If it's even called the Edge any more. I had been there a couple of times, what felt like a lifetime ago.

"What brings you to the Meadow this fine day?" I ask, directing my query to bot the mother and the foals. The small, feathered appendages that sprout from their hides cause my magic to stir up a small breeze, so that they might be able to feel the wind comb through the soft, youthful down that currently covers them. I rein the weather back however, reluctant to let my magic express itself.

For whenever it did, only destruction followed.

[[ uhhh idk where this came from. .___. @[Brisa] ]]