The atmosphere was full of itself, bloated, swollen to the brinks of cloudy skin with humidity, but never threatening to burst as it became lazy in the Tallsun months. Weak breezes, the occasional fast paced gust would arrive on scarce hours, mainly driven to reside in the hours of long, moonlight nights as they became frail, almost anemic. Dug so deeply into the baking sands of desolate sections of the southern lands, enticed by the beautiful concept of rain she'd prayed for, pushed on by how the grasses weren't as rich, and ribs had pushed upwards gently against her cream coloured hide, staying in the north was no issue, and could hold only beliefs of the essential needs being taken care of. In all truths, she wanted relief, more meals to bury within her stomach to ease away the sight of her ribs. Work within home borders was lovely, she paid no mind to her daily tasks, struggles, and accomplishments. Pushed onward by the need to please others, she'd lost her spring weight. Questions came possibly once or twice, when she skirted maybe too near to conversing family members. They had become her breaking point, and she was out before they could take not of her alone time.
Once within the loving arms of the cool air, rolling in the sweet sensation of late snows that had once terrorized her youth, bits of her had collected, kicking her hard in the ass to get your damn priorities straight. Mentally, placed with hands that a friend wouldn't mind feeding into her brain, was all that she felt was needed. Find your memories, somehow, even if she came on her knees with tears clotting her eyes, and dark shaded lashes, to beg Amara to forgive her, get her act together, and while buried in all of that, push onward with her studies.
Having made herself annoyed, angered, and displeased, with a stomach that needed more food, dragging her limp corpse-like shell of her body southward had landed her in mists. Her horn reflected light off the low lying clouds, hooves pushed forward to strike the earth in front of her that she could not see just to make sure she wasn't step in the wrong direction. A few never made contact, and yet while she might be in a bad mood, it was not a reason to die. Falling off a mountain was an embarrassing way to die, since it could be so easily avoided.
Life wasted no time in hitting her in the face again, arriving in the open plain of cooler air, dotted with light raindrops that splattered her hide on occasional but never taking a consistent rhythmic pattern. Hunger pined in her stomach like an ugly feeling, a sickness that could reduced by simply swallowing needed nutrients. When had she become so self destroying, or anything that could describe her current state? Overworked, no: no one had come to her asking for things that would lead this far. This was her doing.
Fat, weighed down, and clearly perfectly placed, was one raindrop to strike her eye, landing a loud snort. Receiving her awakening, the light sprinkling of rain against her hide, there was no time wasted in getting further away from the mouth of the mists, and mountains, to shove food into her stomach.

OOC: Open to anymore.
now for Zuno to write her replies