I'm not sure why I'm in such a hurry. It's not like I have anywhere to be.

But, you must understand, I do this sometimes. I work things up in my head to be bigger than they actually are, and I get really excited, and this is one of those things. Helovia is one of those things.

I crash through the forest toward it. Helovia. A name murmured among many of the vagabonds I'd had the displeasure of meeting during my time alone. It wasn't that these vagabonds were unkind or anything - they were actually pretty helpful - but they were impossibly boring. I'd rather stab myself with my own horn than talk to some of those folks again.

Here's the thing about vagabonds: they don't like talking. Not to you, not to themselves... It's really no wonder that they're out travelling alone, all homeless and shit. They can't hold a conversation to save their lives.

This is what I'm escaping from. A life of boredom and ending up like one of these weary vagabonds. And this is what I'm thinking about as I break through the dense foliage that bursts all around me. I make sure my footfalls are hard and heavy; this is me trying to draw attention to myself. I don't like being alone.

The first thing that I notice about any place is the smell. And this place? It smells like life. I'm running, hard, and I'm pumping my nostrils and just smelling the trees and the earth and the undergrowth. Each breath feels like a fresh start. The deeper I go the more I'm certain someone could get dizzy off the delicious scents - my head's already twirling with the sharp dandelion and honeysuckle. I keep going, and even though my hooves are kinda achy and the brush is scratching at my sides, I don't care. I'm here.

When I get to what I guess is the heart of the forest, I let myself collapse into the lush grass. My body meets the soft earth with a thud and I roll immediately over onto my side, kicking out my hooves and stretching my legs. It doesn't take me long to realize that laying here, in all this soft grass, is probably the closest I'll ever be to happiness. And I really don't mind that.

After I'm done stretching, I just kind of lie here. Thinking. The hum of distant cicadas fills my ears and I'm hit with images of home. There's Mom and Dad and Rhuka and I cringe a little bit. Sorry for being such a shithead, I send to them via my thoughts. I won't ever apologize for real, though. Mostly because there's nothing to apologize for.

Either way, I'm here.