"Can ye walk?" his gentle tones question, the molten fire that lingers in the center of his eyes watching the mare still with a hint of pity. She nods confidently, though in her mind, the doll asks herself 'Can I walk the whole way?' Trembling legs respond with a sure "no," but the strange silver pool keeps her upright - too scared of falling over.

There were so many questions the brutt wished to ask, so many flowers to stop and smell, so many different colored creatures that she wanted so badly to watch with the curiosity of a newborn.. but she stayed quiet, not wishing to ask either of the painted saviors for any more aide than they've already supplied. With weary eyes and an obedient attitude, the fragile, antlered creature followed the winged stallion closely, hoping that the sweet grey-toned mare without a name was still following close behind.

The sun still sat at a great height in the sky as the trek began to come to a crawl through a hidden path, rays of light occasionally bouncing off of Midas' silver and gold collar and causing the broken fae to lose focus. Her ears spun around constantly: taking in the new noises of foreign birds and distant forest creatures scuttling across falling leaves. Soft black nostrils pinched and flared at certain scents, most caught by the passing winds while others were passed without notice.

'There is so much here. This is wonderful! her young mind cried, cheering from inside but keeping a blank draw on the outside. Above her ears, the chain rattled against boney antlers, the indigo charm swinging back and forth between long forelock and a main beam of the twin horns. The foliage began to spread out slowly and the air became more open as the trio moved along, worked-in paths becoming more and more clear as well. Overgrown shrubbery and vines crawling from the nearest bramble patch suffocated most of the forest floor.

As they moved, it became much more evident that the brutt was in terrible physical condition: by now, the freshly made scar along the right side of her face has been exposed to anyone that has come along, and the shaking in her legs has become threatening as to where a leg will randomly give out below her mid-walk. Tired, dehydrated, and starving, the fae's mind is so entertained by her new surroundings that she can barely tell the difference between health and near-death.