It had only been some time since I’d visited the Steppe and for good reason too. My shoulders ached at the thought of the last time I’d seen the snow-slanted swells of the northern plains but I trudged on anyway. This was part of facing my demons and coming to terms with that haunting memory of not only my experience in the Steppe but the memory of my past transgressions. I’d done so much, used so many, and lost sight of the things I’d once aspired to be. But now, as I stood at the fine line between the Steppe and what felt like the rest of the world, I couldn’t find the strength to control the racing of my heart or the fear rising slowly up from my gut. I felt sick, perhaps too sick to go on any further… But against my will I was pulled into the frosted breeze sweeping over the sullen plains. This was my future.


My heavy footfall shifted the snow and ice from beneath me as I drifted along the borders of the cold land. It was almost as devoid of life as I imagined the Basin to be but there was truly no way of knowing just what lurked within the confines of the north. Everything seemed to stretch on into the vastness of eternity with no song to accompany the death of warmth and satisfaction. My wings, still clinging to the rotted flesh at their base, burned and shuddered with the ripping of the wind. It was quite ironic that the land still appeared to be reaching for them in the absence of the ghostly entity that had attacked me some weeks ago. The thought made my spine crawl…

Snow drifted up from the solid turf as the wind gusted and tugged more violently at my mane, tail, and consequently the failing carcass of my wingspan. I had managed to gain ground by crossing through the Steppe’s empty heart in spite of the tension coiling at my core. However, the soil did not sweep up to assault me as it had that day… the day I’d become infected. I would lose my wings to these plains and I still couldn’t figure out why. That rocked me mercilessly as I turned to glance back at the open landscape, my brown eyes shifting nervously from left to right. Nothing.

Upon veering back toward the borders, feeling more at ease with myself than just moments ago, I spotted a thick draft animal perched beneath a shallow overhang built from the rocky dunes at my left. I hesitated between the decision of approaching or moving on, but something tugged at my resolve and within a short time I was within speaking distance. A low rumble of greeting coursed past my dark lips before I paused just before the mare (as I’d gathered upon closer inspection). “Greetings friend…. I don’t suppose you could spare me a bit of room in there hm?” Without much hesitation, I moved in closer in order to escape the growing gales that roamed in from the west, unwilling to wait on her response. “I’m Thor of the World’s Edge- don’t suppose you have a name?” I attempted a smile in spite of the things I knew she’d be surmising about my appearance alone.

However, I guess we all had a way of depending on first impressions and I wouldn’t deny her that, nor would I feign disinterest myself. She stood nearly as tall as if even if I was a good hand higher than the silver girl. The ashy color of her lower half was vaguely pretty though, as well as those silver eyes the peered out beneath long lashes. We were an equal match in size and stature, but I was yet to know what kind of mare this stranger was to be.