Själ

If anything, the princess was just a tad bit overwhelmed.

Her time with Deimos and Erebos had been nothing if not enlightening, but for a girl who had known her mother for but a short time, their tales had given rise to more questions than they had answered.  As a child, Psyche the DarkEmpress had whispered tales not of her own glory, but of her daughter's future - the mare had often spoken of the legacy that lingered for the girl, ripe for the taking, if only Sjal would move to take it.  For years after her mother's disappearance and concurrent death, the princess had battled question upon question:  just what was her mother's endowment?  What was her heritage?  Where did she come from?  What was there in Helovia for her to claim?  As time went on, the girl tried to forget - she tried to leave her mother and the throne that she had wanted for her daughter behind - but each time she seemed about to slip away from the life her mother had planned for her, she found herself right back on its doorstep.  She had come to recognize a distinct feeling that there was more to her fate than her own choices - and so here she was.

Even after her history lesson, the princess had many and more questions, queries beyond counting that left her staring into the hot springs with the slightest of frowns upon her muzzle.  Ansgar had disappeared into the grove of pine and fir nearby, no doubt hunting for her dinner.  The griffin had taken quite nicely to the Aurora Basin, reflecting the comfort that her bonded felt in Psyche's old home.  There was something about the cool air that soothed her, something about the beautiful colors dancing across the sky that welcomed her home.  Home, the girl thought to herself with amusement.  Perhaps we've finally found it.

A voice called her name, triggering recognition:  Erebos bounded toward her, appearing out of the gathering darkness by her side.  Her puzzled frown was replaced by an easy smile, a twinkle of mischief gathering in her eyes as the prince of the Basin invited her to spar.  Her thoughts drifted for a moment to the great mountain that she had fought before - she had not emerged from that battle unscathed, but neither had her opponent.  She had learned much from that, and had no doubts that such a training exercise with Erebos would strengthen her further.  Besides, her desire to protect those she cared about was one thing that had not dulled since she had arrived in the north.  She still remembered Nymeria and the attack that had so changed her friend; though she had not been given details, she had not needed them to see how it had affected the wolf-mare.  Such atrocities would not happen on her watch.

But to prevent them, she needed to be stronger.

The girl cast her gaze over the dark prince.  He was not as heavily built as her previous opponent, so she would be unlikely to out-maneuver him.  But that just made it more of a challenge, didn't it?  With a sweet smile, Sjal batted her lashes at him almost flirtatiously, trying not to telegraph her intentions - and then, suddenly, she spun away from him, ducking her head and kicking up forcefully with her hind legs towards his shoulder.  She didn't have a specific target in mind; her movement was meant to be an answer to his question more than anything.  Still, she wanted to make some sort of contact, and so she had kicked towards the fleshy part of his shoulder in the hopes that if she missed, she would connect with his neck or barrel.

"Let's go, then," she taunted playfully over her shoulder as she tried to canter a few steps away from him to give herself more room to move.

"Talk."
--Ansgar.--

[1/3. 645 words.]