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Frostfall has arrived, and with the first gentle flurries of flakes from the sky, you point yourself south. The journey to the borders of the Dragon’s Throat is uneventful, but still you are nervous. It has been many weeks since you have last seen Bucephalus, and you find yourself wondering if his invitation to join him still stands. Fervently, you hope so—where else do you have to turn? The gates of your past have clanged shut behind you, and the only place left to look is to the future. You were not made to be a solitary creature; and even though you may not deserve it, you crave the warmth and reassurance of others, of family, especially now that none of your own remain.
It still hurts, knowing you have lost both Th’orqui and Quil in one fell swoop, and your nights are often filled with quiet tears and muffled sobs. During the day, the loss settles into a dull ache that throbs next to your heart, punctuated only by the sharp pangs of guilt that strike you every so often, as you remember how you abandoned your last herd. Despite Bucephalus’ advice, you have not returned to the Edge, nor visited the Falls since your return to Helovia—the shame is too great. Even now, you feel a sense of trepidation about the impending arrangement, if the Throat will have you. You want a clean slate, but will they want you? You can only hope that Bucephalus’ kingdom will take you in and allow you to live a quiet and unobtrusive life within their borders, for now that is what you’re best suited for. No longer princess, no longer Seer: just Nasreen, plain and simple.
@[Bucephalus] and open—Nasreen’s joining thread c;
"speech"
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