It wasn’t a terrible past that she had run from. It’s just that it loomed over her, too large and too impossible to shine beneath its’ shadow. There, she was the daughter of a Queen, one that had been cruel and terrible. Not to say Weaver didn’t deserve some of the reputation she had, but it wasn’t her own reputation. She was known entirely because of what her mother had done, and not what she might be capable of. So, she left.

Also, her entire home crumbled and the whole place flipped on its head and generally hell broke loose. But whatever.

She’s never even really thought about boys in the context of the Aurora Basin, but the thought trickles into her now. Not that she’s likely to spread her legs for just anyone (sorry boys, for all the flirty, she is a picky lady). But beneath the dancing lights of the night sky there, it would be something pretty special. Romantic, even. Not that she’s necessarily one for romance. But she can dig the idea of it. The story. Yea, convinced that one over there beneath the northern lights. Yes, she would absolutely say that aloud.

But that’s a long way out. For now, she’s gotta get him back there and hope he sticks around. Some have a tendency not to stick. “Shall we?” she says, nodding toward the north, encouraging him to join her in their nice stroll back home. Flying was faster, but she’s pretty used to walking given that nearly no one in the Basin has wings. There’s one other that she’s seen at this point, and in a way, it annoys her to no longer being the only one. Though it’s good, in another way, because the prejudice and the fact she rarely flies definitely sucks.

But the place as a whole doesn’t suck. If she can stick around despite the fact her wings are often looked at sideways, that says something. That’s it’s worth the fight to prove wings don’t make her inherently bad. She’s not a good egg, but she will fight tooth and nail for her fellow Basiners. “Size is relative, though it’s not small.” Certainly larger than her old home had ever been. But compared to the other herds, she was less certain.

She sets off, tossing her head to look at him and make sure he’s following. Just in case he’s not, she adds a nice come hither look. “See,” she says, head flipping forward again, mane flying as it often does around her, “we have these really great hot springs. So I’ll just take you there, and then you will be a clean stranger. And soon you won’t be a stranger all.”

She keeps walking, not looking back, though Raven is doing the looking for her at this point, keeping an eye on the stallion so he can alert her if she actually should look. “Ah, see dear, you are just simply lucky enough to have caught me.” Not that she is really catchable. She comes and goes as she pleases. But for the moment, she has been caught.

The walk is long, but not horrible, and she’s enjoying the company. Flirting really passes the time, and before she knows it valley pass is before them, the metal sentinels rising up in all their decaying glory. She keeps going until they get to the hot springs, basically at the other side of the herdland, letting him dictate the pace to look around if he wants. “A bath for you, dirty stranger?”

- weaver -