The Elephant had asked the Earth God for a quest to protect his herd and family—yet now he was throne-less and even less able to protect those he loved and cared for. Some ill-placed apathy pervaded his large body, as if his abdication would excuse him from other responsibilities.

But, as one could guess, that did not sit well with the Dorobian stallion. So, he pushed himself beyond the Edge’s protective glass spikes—he was not one to hide behind their sharp embrace. Southward, his long limbs took him. And he found himself winding between the thick trees, mind flooded with thoughts of his task. It felt good to be able to think of something useful once again.

To steal something. That was his task, given by the Earth God. Though he had fought the Mountain for the very right of the Edge to steal, he himself had never partook in this right. And, truthfully, it never settled entirely well with him.

But, here he was, attempting to find some unsuspecting victim. He had given thought to stealing from a friend or acquaintance—but he squashed the idea in a wave of chagrin. A stranger would be better—some anonymous person to take and give back to. Never to see again, never to relive this odd moment in the Elephant’s life.

His limbs stilled, catching azure glimpses between the Rotunda’s flapping curtains. Uncertainly, he watched the star-coated woman. She looked just barely familiar, but he couldn't quite place her indigo face. Perhaps it was her star’s sparkling resemblance to the star-studded children in the Edge that he found familiar.

And he watched from a distance, between the evergreen conifers that still offered some protection as they clung to their needles, unlike the deciduous trees that had shed most of their leaves this late in Orangemoon. It was a tranquil afternoon, the breeze a gentle tickle across the skin; cool in the face of the lingering Tallsun heat.

The Elephant spent more time studying the mare than her belongings—because that was what he did. He was not a thief. He was a leader, a warrior; he spent time measuring and learning of characters, not items. A rough, resistant sigh pushed out of his nostrils as he turned away from studying the bluish tint of her bright white locks and the dark indigo of her limbs. Instead, he forced his navy gaze to the glittering crystal comb nestled in her mane, and the soft white scarf on her body.

How does one even steal things, anyway? Nonplussed, continued to watch from the shadowed trees.