My thoughts are the cold kind,
I've got storm clouds brewing behind my eyes

Returning home after a time of absence, no matter how brief, was always interesting. Things had a habit of changing in the Edge, and for some reason Erthë felt destined to never be present to witness the process.

Draped in the mantle of enchanted night the filly limped along by the border to her homeland, eyes fixed on a trench that cut into the soil like a black scar. She knew the purpose of it, knew that the Goddess had demanded this as a stage in the process of increasing their defenses. But somehow the moon-colored girl hadn't fully realized the scale of the project until she stood before it, hadn't expected things to move along so quickly. The thing did not appear to be entirely complete yet, but it mattered little. Erthë hadn't been there to help, hadn't offered her aid or pretty excuses to skip work, had not been present, and it gnawed at her like a thorn in the frog, like guilt and disappointment.

Following the border south, she paused to rest her leg before a tall, black construction of metal. A gateway decorated by the Moon in her phases, it looked somewhat misplaced where it stood, tucked in between the crumbling remnants of a wall that once would have risen as tall and imposing. The way it was now though, the way it would remain until someone rebuilt the wall or replaced it with something else, the gate appeared almost comical to her, and a bit sad. The herd was working hard under the supervision of Temobvu's watchful eyes, but to what end? To shut the world out, to defend against unseen enemies - ghosts of the mind, or something else she just didn't know about? The Rift wars were over, what was left to fight when the four herds were all thriving and the gods upheld the peace.

Shaking her head quietly the filly, no longer a child nor yet a woman, slipped past the gate and brought her bubble of night with her into the Edge, pushing away the bright midday sunlight as if she by rejecting it could make the day any less hot. At least here there was always moisture to work with, unlike the parched fields and scorching winds of the wilderness. Desperately longing for winter Erthë touched the damp, heavy air with her mind and tweaked it, chilled the drifting droplets in the atmosphere until they froze. The summer warmth quickly melted the ice again, made it evaporate - but as she repeated the process over and over, a thin, silvery mist began to appear around her slender frame, the temperature in her immediate vicinity dropping by several degrees.

It wasn't much in the face of the brutal midsummer heat, but even so it let her draw deep breaths of relief as she picked her way along familiar trails, eagerly looking, smelling, listening for familiar faces and beloved voices.
"I'm home again" Erthë murmured, smiling softly as she allowed the familiar surroundings to soothe her pains and aches and ease away whatever troubles that lingered on her mind.

Erthë

And my heart will be blacker than your eyes
when I'm through with you