Cold violet eyes swept over the snow covered land like a hawk might survey potential prey. The ground was blanketed heavily with the clusters of stubborn flakes, and though the trees that surrounded her were nearly endless, their bare carcasses offered no reprieve from the bitter sting of the freezing particles. They settled along her flanks, whitened the snowy color along her back for a few moments before the heat from her bodice melted it away into the substance it had birthed from. Soot painted legs regained their momentum as her careful watch of the forest completed itself. Pushing through the drifts of snow with a powerful, undaunted elegance. Lakota was not new to this stage in life at all. Multiple times she had crossed into lands such as these, in every season, with different ways to discover. Multiple times she would join a herd or a nomadic pack, always thrown out for one reason or another. Her last had placed within her a certain bitterness towards one word.

Peace.

Her Queen was beautiful. Born a beautiful cream with pumpkin eyes. Delicate as a butterfly. Lakota often marveled at how she arose to such a rank, and her only answer was popularity and a wish for that word- peace. Lakota would never again speak her name. The dame had wanted harmony with every creature, but would not allow her followers to fight for it. Lakota had simmered with rage. Her Queen believed it would come if they extended a welcome no matter who, bad or good. Believed she could heal their rotten souls. When Lakota, fiercely loyal and a fighter, showed how she felt on this matter, her Queen was horrified by her crassness. The battle that ensued after the femme insulted her in a grievous fashion was not pleasant.

In the end Lakota was relatively unharmed, yet her whitened coat was stained red as she wailed for her soldiers to chase the devil of a mare away. But Lakota had been right. All the times she had tried to warn her, went unheeded. The herd was pillaged and destroyed weeks after the sooty roan was banished. Lakota knew there would always be a rotten soul. A terrible foal born of heavenly parents. Nothing could stop that. Peace had to be fought for. Blood had to spill and cover the earth so that others may see their sacrifice. Of course it didn't help that Lakota often fought with her herd members. She was not a pleasant mare with flowers and smiles. She was a warrior and often was not treated so because of her big eyes and pretty looks. Bringing up her past was a sure fire way to get you on her bad list. Stallions thought she was easy and were often quickly and violently corrected. It seemed by now that nobody wanted her.

But Lakota found herself always searching nonetheless. He wanted a strong leader to follow. Soldiers that were actually soldiers. Maturity and an actual cause. Something to fight for. If they respected her, she was not much trouble. Even as her Queen signed her death away by refusing to fight, Lakota had stood by her. Trying to warn her until her banishment. Lakota needed to find a spark in her leader. Something worth putting her life on the line for.

A snort escaped her darkened muzzle, tossing her head so that blackened Kane spilled over her blue shoulder. The memories and thoughts were pushed away. Now was not the time. Now, she must find an inhabitant of this land. Start a new life for the hundredth time since she had been born. Crossing yet another threshold. Perhaps this time would be the last.

OOC: Her personality is revealed a little but should become more obvious with social interaction. May not be as great of a post, it was wiped and I had to try and rewrite it.