She’d grown up in a world of smiles and pleasantries. A world where, once upon a time, if you’d ask her she would have said that horses were inherently good. And some were, certainly. But some were not. She learned the hard way just what sort of monsters they could turn out to be. Those that pretended to be her friends, her brother’s friends, for years. But her brother’s friends and comrades in arms slit his throat while he slept. Not even an honorable murder, but of course, they were too afraid to face their fire-wielding prince with his eyes open.

And then they waited, pretending it had been someone outside the camp, their enemy kingdom, until her parents and their King and Queen came to investiage. In retrospect, perhaps both the king and queen should not have gone. But how could they not? Not only was this a political matter. Their son was dead and they wanted to return his body to burn it properly. Corbin had been created of fire, and he would end his life in fire as well. It was tradition, to let the element that had been yours in life take you away in death.

But their ‘friends’ outnumbered them when they arrived, much of their guard turning against their monarchs, and killed the king and queen where they stood. Killed Lyanna’s parents. She only believed in the goodness of others still because a few friends stayed true, risking their lives to save Lyanna and her sister. For all Lyanna knows, they were caught and murdered. She hoped not, but she had no way of knowing.

She had no way of knowing if anyone ever burned Corbin, or returned her mother to the sea. She still wondered if anyone here would ever know her well enough to know to scatter her remains in the wind, when her time came.

The stallion she finds seems suspicious, watching her for a moment before offering a ‘hi’. She can’t blame him though, and doesn’t take it personally. No, instead she continues to smile a bit, kindness lighting her eyes as it normally does. She grins a bit wider at his question about the World’s Edge, something pleased and happy to be talking about one of her favorite parts of the Edge.

“It’s pretty literal, yes. The herd is largely a forest, but there’s a clearing which ends in a cliff. It is beautiful really, though perhaps not the safest place to hang out. A bit safer with wings,” she says with a smile, ruffling her own slightly. She doesn’t think twice about the scars on his sides, other than to appraise that there’s nothing new there she should heal, of course. But otherwise, to her, she cares only that he is polite and kind, that perhaps she can offer him some help.

“There are three other herdlands as well, their names rather appropriate to their landscapes as well. The Dragon’s Throat,” not that she’s been there, but she knows it’s in a south and the warmest of all the herds, so the name makes sense. “The Hidden Falls, and the Aurora Basin.”