Daltoff's hooves pad carefully, an attempt to drive away the relentless fear. Paranoid, he uses such caution, always glancing far over the right shoulder to see behind his left side. The absence of his eye causes such an irritation to bubble in his short-minded brain, but it's a flaw he'll have to live with. He could do it, too. If he ran across the fire-aroused world to claim safety, without it, the soldier would sure find away to solider technique. But now he just aims to cool his still-galloping guts, and calm his frazzled thoughts.

The trees hide him well enough, he's nearly the same dark shade under the florescent moon as it bleaches the treetops. He watches the millions of stars echo themselves, dancing with the movement of the planet on its axis. This calms him a bit - and he begins to think clearly. He thinks of his parents as those tiny stars, but they're so far away that he knows they're so much greater. He names Ailayne as the largest, brightest star, nestled in a tight constellation. The star is the most beautiful, and the most sensible - the first any would lay their eyes on. His eye dots the remaining stars to name other warriors he knew, he believes they all lay within the moon's watch.

As if to interrupt the vigil, a cleanly smell creeps into the canals of his nostrils. Dalt recognizes it to be of a large Unicorn stallion, and if anything it already captured his musty scent. Daltoff rests a marked thigh, and twists his face up into an ugly scowl as he inhales more of the visitor's scent. As he approaches, Dalt feels as if the frosty appearance is actually mocking him. He seems to bring winter along with him, and without a second thought, he feels as if the wind carries a hint of frost to his sweat-darkened brown skin. The old warrior twitches his tail as the oddly marked male begins to speak. His one-eyed gaze lingers along his sparkling blue horn, somewhat amused at how it twinkles in the intense moonlight. Daltoff does admit to himself that this spotted stallion looks fit, even in the weak light. The soldier dips his head as the other horse moves in - perhaps the most respectful form of greeting he'd managed in a while. But his respect stops at the lighthearted expression of his "eventful journey." The warrior lifts his heavy head and rage begins to grow over his features.

"You don't know what kind of hell I've been through," the stallion's jaws clack before releasing the foul snap. Daltoff will not have anyone take his "journey" lightly. Frankly, he didn't give a shit about who they were. Everyone he knew, trusted, or loved died. They were gone like yesterday's currents. He could relive the episode thousands of times and not save near the lives that were lost in the past season. His haste grew more as the spotted stallion talked. "Daltoff." His name came, but it was raided with irate tone.

Curiosity pricks helter-skelter. World's Edge? It sounded to him like some sort of cavalry line. He briefly imagines miles of working foot-soldiers rounding up. But this Mauja, he looks nothing of a soldier - unless he were one of the magic dealers who spit out tendrils of supernatural weaponry. "What is World's Edge?" Another glance of his red eye soars up to Ailayne's star, and he knows this is the beginning of a new life.