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After Tor left the cave, Ophelia had stayed the night in the icy structure, content to wait out the softly falling snow in its protection. However, the next day, she wanted to make sure that the draft mare was all right. A selfless heart like hers deserved someone to care for it, and Ophelia was willing to accept the job. Once beyond the wind-blown tundra of the Steppe, her large hoof prints were easy to follow. They made clear, circular divots in the ground, the toe digging a lilliputian trench on snowless ground.
As she moved south and west,the winds died down and the temperature rose considerably. Her once puffed, pristine coat was now slicked against her slender sides, and she picked up a brisk trot, cloven toes easily propelling her body over sandy dunes that were thick with vegetation. Ophelia stopped for a moment to graze eagerly, savoring the salty tang of ocean grasses. The harsh, crunchy stems of weather beaten tundra vegetation was only appealing for a short time.
Tinek let out a deep howl on the breeze, and Ophelia lifted her head, spying the pearl and silver mare in the distance. The wind ruffled the gritted feathers on her lower legs, and the younger mare smiled, letting out a gentle call of her own. She moved to the healer as the ocean roared and crashed against sand and rock, and a pleasant expression crossed her features. The silver dragon flew low and settled on the sand near the two, much taller equines, recognizing Tor and dancing a twisting dance on the sand. "Hello, Tor," Ophelia said softly. "Are you feeling all right?"
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