Essetia

The meadow had come to pass and so had the mournful heart caves. They had melded together as if one land altogether until Essetia could no longer decipher how far she and Masanori had travelled. Too many times the Sleuth –a sleuth always- had travelled back to her home in the Hidden Falls. The journey had been much shorter then or at least shorter by comparison to the Throat. Yet, even in the silence that wafted between them, Essetia felt comfortable. She knew well enough the waters that surrounded her new home and reveled in the imaginary wings that would one day carry her above the earth in order to deliver her to the other side.

Even Romul fancied the idea of the magic key that allowed their kin access to the desert of the south, though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone other than his Queen.

Millstone after millstone passed by without notice until both Essetia and Romul had grown tired of both the snow and the unperturbed silence of travel. No amount of conversation could make up for the roads ahead of and behind them… and they hadn’t even arrived in the snow-dusted Throat and its vast expanse of dunes and wild bramble. They hadn’t even laid eyes on the browning cacti or the sparse, desert trees. They hadn’t stood waiting at the borders in awe, watching as the waters that surrounded their home lapped against the adjacent shore. Yet, all of those things were moments Essetia had once experienced upon arriving in the Throat; the only difference now was that she was firmly planted on the other side of such an encounter.

Again Romul experienced a desire to wander and he did so when at last the familiar southern landscape became more apparent. The new Sleuth herself had begun to question whether or not she would be granted the access to cross freely into her new home -and position- but also knew that there were ways around the cautionary system that was the Throat’s security. Thanks to the lovely Diviner, Essetia had been ushered to and from the desert, but of course the mare couldn’t rely on the Priestess to remedy all her woes. She had only to depend on her own sense of self-worth and her own primal desires to take what was hers and to accomplish what she thought she could not.“It’s just up ahead,” Essetia motioned with a flick of her eyes. In her time travelling south, the mare had grown comfortable with Masanori and his dream-like qualities. There was something admirable in the way he presented himself, a wavering mirage by any name, and a softness that did not escape her. “I could explain many things about the Throat for you, but I find that it’s best to see everything for yourself,” she commented casually. “Clearly, I come from a desert home, but it won’t disappoint. I’ve spent many nights searching for flaws Masanori, but even I could not find one.”