like a jar, you housed infinite tenderness
and infinite tenderness shattered you

For better or worse, Yael is a little oblivious to the cogs of the Edge as they churn and chug, moving frantically all over Helovia in order to get the multiple pieces for the Herd Quest. No, she has her own tasks to fulfill, and there is a very important place she still has yet to visit (mostly because the desert-born mare steadfastly avoids anything that takes her further north), but the time to do so is quickly drawing to a close. While the air is still warm, the air currents higher up hold a chill, their winds strong and vicious. A quick glance tells her all she needs to know; these mountains are not made for flying over, even if she wanted to. Which she doesn’t because that would be trespassing.

The little gold and silver mare has some of the worst timing too, considering the persistent visits of her herdmates and the asking of favors. Well, she can always plead ignorance - and then plead to Tiamat, if it comes to that. While navigating the unfamiliar air patterns, her mind drifts to the two Basiners she’s met: Tiamat and Rikyn, and hopes they’ll be kind enough to vouch for her. Are there others she knows here? Seen, at least, at various events across Xelovia? You see, the Basin and its residents are entirely unknown to Yael: an enigma wrapped in a thick layer of ice that she is willing to hold a hair dryer to in order to discover what’s been frozen in time, even if she has to stand there for a good day and a half and run up the electricity bill.

Two giant metal unicorns come into view, guarding a passage, and she assumes they mark the edge of the herdlands. Circling in wide curly-q’s she is sure to be easily seen by anyone nearby, the strong summer sun glinting off her silver-white hair and gilded wings. She is a visitor who announces herself way ahead of time, to avoid any misunderstandings. When dainty hooves touch the ground, she fluffs her wings about her and sets to studying the giant guardians, a slightly bemused expression on her face. Well. That will surely be one of the first stories she seeks out. But for now, all the Philosopher asks for is permission to come and go when the weather is warm, to serve as a record keeper for all of Xelovia.

As old as that mind is, it is still a steel trap.