It was strange to think that he once again had a place to call home. Since the arrival to Helovia not a full season ago events had unfolded in rapid succession, so that now the stallion found himself no longer roaming but rather resting, beneath trees in an area where the mist ruled both day and night. It was curious how his mind had changed in these quickly passing days. They had arrived with a mind set on remaining only over the winter, prepared to face the cold season in solitary confinement. A prison made up of mental blocks and guilt, where depression loomed at the edge of the consciousness, prepared to pounce at the smallest sign of weakness.

Now as they strolled beneath the barren trees with legs encased in perpetual mist, curiously roaming from border to border in this wooden cathedral, they had to agree that events had turned for the better. Mostly it had to do with the shadow mare and her golden companion, who's wide and generous hearts had enveloped them in the warmth of friendship and pulled them out of the mental bars that separated them from the rest of the world. It was because of her that he now walked here, strangely warm and comfy even though the overcast sky trapped a miserably damp cold along the ground and the thickness of the winter coat just barely managed to block it out.

There's no wind Fajira murmured in his mind, the pearly voice carrying overtones of complaint. I'm glad there isn't, or the weather would be worse he responded and lifted the hooves high as he clambered over a fallen log, gray and slimy from rot and damp. He felt strangely at home in this place, in a way he hadn't in any other place. The salty breeze from the ocean reminded him of the Tides back in Isilme, but rather than annoying sand that clung to the coat and irritated the ears, he was walking over soft moss, stepping over rocks and roots and weaving between trees similar to the ones that made up the Woodlands. A perfect combination in his mind, much like the mixture of old acquaintances and new faces in the new herd was making his life interesting.

A content sigh escaped the silver-coated stallion, and as he broke through a thicket and found himself in a wide stretched clearing filled with grass, still green from the ever moisturizing climate, he paused his wanderings and lowered the head to graze. It was a perfect opportunity to rest the aching right leg. While the pegasus healer had done a marvelous job in mending the broken bone, he still carried bruises and a deep wound across the thigh that healed only slowly. It wasn't enough to bring to the attention of a medic, but enough to slow him down and make frequent breaks a sensible thing. Besides, why stand up on a perfectly good meadow when he didn't have anything that required his immediate attention?

Fajira didn't see to mind the decision either. As he stopped to graze she sat up and unfurled the wings, stretching lazily before leaping off the broad back, flapping through the haze to perch on a high branch of a tree instead. Blue-gray eyes took to studying the grassland with alert interest, prepared to strike down on any animal her bonded managed to stir up. It was a perfect day, calm and peaceful - it was hard to remember that a war had been fought close by only days ago.