Playtime was certainly long overdue and the little phantom had grown tired of the Basin and all its white walls. There was an emptiness thriving within the valley that made her restless, unkempt. She desired the rush of curiosity and excitement and show, as performing was one of her specialties. With spring blooming with new life abound just outside their borders, Solanine sought to wander, to explore. However, she hadn’t the slightest clue as to what mysteries Helovia kept hidden from her knowledge and so she travelled to the only known place of relevance- the Threshold.

Morning colors painted themselves into the sky above and even though the phantom was not one for marveling such predictable events, her wandering eye did linger briefly on the pinks and yellows perched above. But certainly not for long…

With the claiming ground just ahead, the little mare smiled deviously to herself before easing into the soft, sunrise shadows. She didn’t have any particular script in mind and instead settled for improvisation when it came to “recruiting” or whatever it was the Aurora Basin called it. The truth still stood that she had come in search of reward, payment in any form of the word… She was a greedy young mare with big dreams. Certainly her new… family would understand that?


But if they required… proof of her… devotion, then she would comply with the rules of supply and demand. They supplied her refuge and in turn demanded her allegiance. That was fair enough.

With bottomless, black eyes, the mare drifted aimlessly through the tall shadow of the wood in search of her very own sacrifice. She imagined that coercing another into residing in a land like the Basin was a feat in and of itself. As she pondered the idea, her ears titled left to the sound of conversation. Her expression danced with a new light, or vigor if you’re one to call it that.

With an Arabian build likes hers, Solanine was able to approach silently like the phantom she was expected to be. Her curious eyes returned the image of two creatures, both gifted with the oh so mythical horn . Apparently that was part of Basin requirements for whatever reason… the dunces. One was mare and the other not, but of course neither presented threat nor competition. Solanine was on a level of her own creation and an untouchable one at that. Leave it to the phantom to believe herself beyond reproach…

With neither the patience nor the manners to wait on their blooming introduction, Solanine moved forward, all stage directions on cue. “Welcome friends,” she trilled elatedly. “I’m Solanine.”

Solanine

You've been sanctified