Her journey began before dawn.
The air tasted cold and crisp, like sharp metal laid across her warm tongue. The world was silent at this hour, and that was why it was Yseulte's cherished time of the day. A heavy breath of morning air caressed her face with cool fingertips that trailed lazily across her soft skin, leaving her tail splaying gently around her hocks and blonde strands swaying over ocean eyes.
The last stars still littered the horizon line, cold and distant and lonely. The Never star still burned brightly overhead, and her heart ached at the sight of it. She passed over the crossing into the Veins of the Gods quietly, more aware of the hollow silence that settled over the empty land than ever before.
The lava tasted acidic and smoldered in her throat, causing her eyes to sting and smart. She remembered the story Zjarri once told her of her famous grandmother, the Fire Lord's favored amazonian queen. The Fire Lord sent the queen up the belching volcano called Mt. Zjarri (for which her father was named after) and in to its belly in order to retrieve a small black stone that gave her wondrous and magnificent power. But, as always, magic came with a price. Aislia was scarred and burned beyond recognition by the magma, but the Fire Lord took pity on his Firebird, and healed her.
It was a grand story, to be sure, but there was always a thick tone of bitterness in his voice. She later learned that Zjarri's twin sister inherited the stone from his mother, and not he.
And so it was only natural, that Yseulte venture before the gods this day, following in her grandmother's footsteps. But unlike her father and grandmother, she did not seek power. She sought companionship. Yseulte stopped in front of the shrines while solitude and the early hush of dawn settled around her soft figure in a close embrace of emptiness.
She waited.
[ Yseulte is questing for a snow leopard companion. c: ]
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