Now she walks, yes walks, out from under the trees of the deep forest.  No doubt she would much rather have flown but the close confines of forests like the one now at her back do not allow for the double expanse of her wings and the maneuvers required to get her body off the ground.  She comes traipsing in to the open field with her wings still folded firmly against her sides.  This arrangement means it is not obvious that she has any more than the normal number of wings for a pegasus and leaves only her shining gold coat and silver hair to draw the eye.

Was I trying to avoid Ampere?

Well, maybe a little… and really the thought makes me feel silly.  Chances are she won’t even remember me.  Still, I feel bad about walking out on her and I’ve been being a big-old-chicken about this fact ever since my return.  This avoidance landed me on a lone patrol when I could have been traveling in a group of four desert people.  It also got me lost, meaning it will take me that much longer to get back to the Throat that I hadn’t wanted to venture out from in the first place.  At least spring is not very far away, I will feel more adventurous when the sun is ruling more of the day.  Winter is not my favorite season and even living in a desert the chill combined with the dark adds up enough to be depressing.  This lone ranger act also means I passed up a chance to meet some of my herd mates, I definitely regret that consequence of the decision.

This place is not exactly stellar.  It is an open, empty expanse of dirty white.  No doubt it is breathtaking at any other time of year but now… not so much.  I find it hard to imagine what the Sultan and Sultana could possible want to know about such a barren empty place.  Then again, maybe they don’t… maybe they just stuck me on the easiest patrol because I’m well, me.  Not a fighter, or a spy, or anything of any use at all really.

My mind is wandering off into darkness now and I must take a firm hand with myself.

Riel, this is soooo not like you. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, go march around and observe a bit and then go home and be happy.  Get to it, chop, chop!

For a few minutes after entering the field the woman stands frozen as if she has disappeared inside her head.  Then she shakes herself, gives one firmly decisive snort and moves forward floating from a trot to an easy canter.  This simple gate is allowed to convey her slowly around the perimeter of the meadow eyes and ears alert for anything of note or deeper interest.