After the bizarre and confusing events that happened in the region that she knew now to be called Blood Falls, Ophyreia had been led back to her new home. The World's Edge was a beautiful, mystical land. The misted forests provided just the right amount of privacy, while the views of the vast blue seas contributed to a sense of wonder and empowerment. It had only been one season since the grulla had so suddenly lost her herd and appeared in the threshold of Helovia, but she could already feel the optimism rushing through her chest. This would be a good adventure.

At the present moment, however, her nerves were quite frayed from the confusion that had ensued at Blood Falls. After a brief introduction to her new home and herd, the rustic woman had chosen to take her leave, preferring to explore more of this new and intriguing realm for a while of meeting her two new leaders. Ophelia had mentioned Torleik, while whispers in the Edge had given her Mauja's name. Maybe it was apprehension holding her back. After all, she had been a proud Chieftess up to the moment that she had been ripped so abruptly from her herd... and now, she was expected to defer to not one, but two leaders. She would do so graciously, of course, but even the burly woman could admit it was a little disconcerting. 

Ophyreia's musings stopped short as she came to the edge of a small cliff overlooking a large basin, her breath catching in her throat. While the Edge was calm and wondrous, this region could only be described as breathtaking. Multiple waterfalls not even one mile away created prismatic mists that rose from the basin below, shrouding the luscious greens of the trees surrounding them. Basking in the allure of this new land, the olive-toned mare trotted forward, a newfound spring in each step. Now alert, she recognized a new and unfamiliar scent of many different bodies, all different and yet the same - the trademark of a herd. This couldn't be the Dragon's Throat that young Ilios had mentioned to her, could it? It seemed much too exotic.

Stopping just short of the start of the trees, making sure she kept those magnificent cascades in her view, Ophyreia let out a low, tentative whinny to announce her presence. This was somebody's turf, and she would abhor starting off as a trespasser. 

Hopefully this herd was cordial with strangers.