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"Huh," the word dropped from the mouth of a nesting pegasus, a bundle of feathers and hair curled up in the branches, hiding away from the world. The crimson canopy was a pleasant enough place to hide out - only recently had she even come across it. For years she had travelled across Helovia's skies, yet only now she found a place to dwell that was far enough away from any herdland that the mare could be satisfied of her solitude.

Or not.

Hiding from one's own responsibilities and herd meant one was bound to be found out by just about anyone - the cloudmare was thankful that she did not know most of those who dwelt below, but that didn't mean she wasn't just as ashamed when coming face to face with what she had (or hadn't) done. Mostly she watched the world trickle by, watched as others lived their lives. By and large she went unnoticed - sometimes she threw her spear at particularly nosey snoops, who usually vacated effectively after that. Her body, still sinewy and lean, lacked the stamina it once held from constant movement.

What had happened, you might ask, to make a mare turn inwards for such a time?

There was no real singular answer. A culmination of thoughts and events that were either real or fantasised, triggered the mare to seek refuge with only her thoughts to keep her company, her thoughts and memories. A constant image that floated to her mind was the image of perfect blue eyes peering deeply into her own - only she could no longer decipher whose eyes they were. And then the killings - the murders - that the Earth God has set for her, (to what purpose, she could barely recall), hurt her more deeply than she cared to admit. But she was a killer - she still held the tokens she already had.. She would get the rest. Just not.. Soon.

"Do you need help?" a voice, raw from misuse, croaks into existence, as she watches the strangely hued and textured creature flounder about in the water. The horned one appeared to be all right (if you discounted the surprised squeal she let out), and she seemed to have arrived at a moment where Cirrus was on the cusp of deciding to rejoin the real world once more. Curiosity was ever her weakness - and so with a singular whump of her wings, the cloudmare descended from her leafy heights to stand at the water's edge, brow raised in silent question.