It had been a few weeks since Ave's death, and Vinati found herself once more at the edge of the Dragon's Throat.  She had always liked the golden-red sands by the water's edge, where she could listen to the waves lap at the shoreline and watch the seagulls float overhead.  It was relaxing, though she knew not everyone liked it as much as she did.  Sometimes she heard others in the herd complain about the sand at the water's edge and how it managed to get everywhere - but why on earth did they live in a desert if they don't like sand, might she ask?

Orangemoon was in full swing now, though it affected the desert far less than it might the mainland.  Still, the days were noticeably cooler (though still hot), and the nights had grown almost frigid to the young girl.  She had been born into heat and Sun, and the loss of the warmth that she had grown so used to left her shivering more often than not.  She had decided that she did not much like to be cold, and she could not help but dread the arrival of Frostfall.  But that was still some time in the future, and it was silly and useless to worry about it now.  Even if she did think the coming of cold to ruin their food and settle in their bones was a particularly idiotic stupid strange thing for the gods to do.  Especially their god, the one of Sun and fire.

So she wandered the beach, prancing here and there and pausing periodically to scuff her hooves in the sand.  Sometimes she did it just because, but other times, she tried to sketch out a crafting design.  She was young, but she was already a skilled jeweler, and designing upcoming pieces always thrilled her.  Lately, though, she had been having trouble coming up with anything that was worth using her magic to make.  In the back of her mind, the circlet that she had promised her father she would make for her mother lingered.  It seemed almost silly to make it now that he was gone - it was supposed to be something that they did together, and despite having come to terms with Gaucho's death quite easily, she didn't want to embark on that project alone.  It made his absence feel all the larger, and she didn't want to remember that though she could see him and hear him, she couldn't feel him.  Ghosts were notoriously lacking in solidity.

The waves crashed rather loudly off to her right as she started on her way again.  The girl walked along the water line, following the curve of the wet sand when each wave came in and departed.  She didn't get her hooves wet - she didn't like the way the water here tugged and pulled at her spindly legs - but she stayed as close as she could to the water without actually getting in.  Seagulls hovered overhead, forever trying to fly while managing only to flap their wings in place.  She wondered if the silly things knew that the wind was the cause of their struggle.  If they would only turn around and fly the other way, maybe they would actually get somewhere.

Talk.