Why was she here? Why had she wandered to the lands of sinners and saints, of fallen Gods and rising Goddesses? Well...she had nowhere else to go...When she was discovered upon a herds lands she was always cast out, given her refusal to join their ranks....And why would she? To become one of their breeding machines? No.....the thought sent a tremor through her slight form. Golden eyes flickered to the tree line, moving through the vast expanse of trees. There was a natural funnel created by the mountains which would lead her to an area she knew would be a claiming ground of sorts. She despised the idea of being claimed by someone like an inanimate thing, but in the back of her mind was the constant reminder that winter was drawing near....and perhaps she would have to put her feelings aside for a few months to ensure her own survival...Already a cold wind nipped at her pelt...It was enough to give her pause. But with a pursing of her gray lips she forced onward, flicking her flaxen tail against her chestnut hide with a crack of finality.

Other equines had been here recently...many of them....probably wanderers like herself, though she imagined that many of them would throw themselves at the hooves of the first leader to offer them a kind word....It was deplorable.....the way they would chose to follow someone they had only known a matter of minutes, pledging their loyalty to someone they did not even truly know. She snorted, tossing her skull to disperse the negative thoughts....Now was not the time for them....She needed to be stealthy...to slip into the lands unnoticed...perhaps onto the lands of a slack herd where she could find shelter. Her ivory limbs began to burn as she moved up the slope, wincing as a sore muscle made her foreleg twitch.....She was tired....so tired....It had been days since she had stopped to rest. After being discovered in her latest hiding place she had been ran from the herdlands with little ceremony. That in itself was not abnormal.....but the terra had been rocky and she had made a misstep...Now as her steps were beginning to slow the stiffness was starting to set in. Her ram like horns were heavy, making her head droop and sway as she ventured on...and then finally with nightfall setting in Wren gave in to her weakness. Curling her thin limbs beneath her she snuggled beneath the low branches of a weeping willow tree...Its feather like limbs helped block the cold wind, but still as the night wore on she she shivered beneath its branches. Her mind reeling with memories of frozen horses and their fearful permanent gaze...