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A cold wind swept down from the north and the once brilliant sunlight faded, gray clouds rushing overhead with a promise of rain. Erthë looked up again when the first cold droplets landed on her back, as she so often had these past few days; anxious that someone might be around, fearing that no one would be. Dreading, that whoever found her there on the meadow would be the wrong kind of person.

With a rumble of distant thunder the sky opened up, turning the afternoon from mildly pleasant to miserable at the turn of a leaf. She did not mind the cold. Freezing was rarely a problem to the cold-blooded girl, born as she was with the last breath of winter. But being wet was a different matter. Within minutes the glistening curls lay plastered against the neck and her wings felt twice as heavy, dragging at the shoulders so that the fresh scars in her sides ached and smarted. She sighed, blinking away the water that persistently dripped into her eyes; lowering her crown again she reached for another mouth of grass.

Bright light flashed in the distance. Flinching visibly her ears fell back, the long tail whipping back and forth, agitation barely suppressed; there just was no relaxation to be had today, was there. No peace, no quiet - or perhaps it was the abundance of the two that caused her such distress. Regardless of which, she was getting no rest, which she needed badly after so many sleepless nights, and with this weather staying out in the open would be stupid.

Muttering under breath Erthë meandered down the hill, her limping gait bringing her towards a grove of gnarled oaks and wild rose briars that huddled by a bend in the river. Out of all the trees in this open landscape these appeared to be the lowest ones, it should pose the least danger if the storm picked up. Lifting her wings high so that she could get through the dense shrubbery she pushed herself in through the thicket, wincing as thorns bit into her skin, piercing skin and drawing small, dark droplets of blood. The heady scent of it made her shudder, nausea rising like bile in the throat.

Swallowing hard, biting down the pitiful whimper that trembled her lips, she pressed on. Deeper and deeper, further in, until she reached the open space in the center where sunlight was scarce and the pouring rain was blocked by tangled branches over her head.

It was a good place, a hidden place. Secret, or at least it had been when she roamed the lands by her mothers side.

It felt like such a long time ago... Few things were as they had been back then.