Själ

The morning sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when the girl woke. She had sheltered for the night under a weeping willow tree near the coast, having elected to find some manner of cover to protect her. If nothing else, her mother had taught the girl paranoia before her disappearance and eventual death, and after learning of the DarkEmpress's downfall, her daughter was all the more inclined to caution. Although the willow offered little true protection, she had taken the gamble that a small, dark form would not be noticed among the long, swaying branches. As it turned out, she had been correct.

Now it was time to move on. She had been surprised at how few others she had come across as she had traveled the coast of Helovia. She hadn't had the slightest clue where to begin after leaving the Threshold (and her sister, though she shoved the memory aside), and after going north and meeting the ocean, she had elected to just follow it. She hadn't wanted to risk getting lost and going in circles, and this had seemed the perfect solution. Still, she had expected, from her mother's ramblings, to find more life. There were plenty of reptiles sunning themselves on the rocks, plenty of birds flitting overhead... but where were the equine forms? Other than that strange, half-winged child in the Fields, she had seen no one.

The filly pressed on, following the waves as the coast turned north. It began to get coolor, even in the warmth of Tallsun, and by midday, she had unknowingly crossed into the area known as the Frostbreath Steppe, though it was lacking the snows that were so indicative of the region. As she moved further north, she would begin to see remnants of frost in the shadows of the elaborate, shimmering rock formations that dotted the scrubby landscape - but for now, she noted only the slowly cooling temperatures.

She had never encountered the blistering heat of Helovia's more southern lands. She had been born at the beginning of winter, and despite having spent her early months outside of Helovia, she had grown strong in the frigid temperatures that she had begun her life in. Her pelt had been covered in sweat and flies since her entry into her mother's empire; the gentle, cool breeze coaxing her north was a blessed relief, though it did not particularly help the flies. Her tail, only half-grown, could only do so much for her, nor the dainty trot that propelled her forward discourage the pests.

Still she pressed onward, determined to find someone that could give her direction.

Talk.