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The mare was watching the snowflakes dance as a sound hit her ears and a scent hit her nose. Relic immediately knew it was a she-wolf, but she didn't mind. She had spent some time with wolves before she came here, for they seemed to be the only ones who accepted her. Pivoting on one hoof, she gracefully turned around to see a russet wolf coming towards her. Unlike most, Relic was never scared of wolves. The creatures seemed to care for her, but she couldn't find it in herself to care back. Silently, Relic looked the wolf over with eyes like fire. Yes, this wolf was taken care of nicely. The mare's blue tinted wings ruffled as she listened to the fae speak. As Relic heard the name of the herd, her ears flicked forward. It was a name she hadn't heard before, but no curiosity could spark. The damage had been done, and this mare felt almost nothing at all.
As the fae finished speaking, Relic replied. Her voice flowed like the calmest of rivers, and had a British accent to it. "Hello Ayaka, I am Relic. I have come in search of a home. I believed that Helovia would be it once I heard about it." The mare bowed her head slightly, showing respect. Relic took in the warm look of the fae's eyes, but she couldn't return it. Instead her fiery blue, lifeless eyes looked back. The mare had been damaged beyond repair, and she remembered it frequently. Being born to a herd where mares were treated like nothing but for breeding. Her old herd had killed for sport, and they only allowed her to kill with them when she had murdered her brother. When they had ran out of herds to kill, they killed each other. That was when Relic left. She had killed their two best warriors, and then she left and never looked back.
Now that her face was directed at the she wolf, she knew her marking was visible. It was the purest white and started at her forehead, jaggedly running down to where it branched off like bolts of lightning to the tip of her dark nose. It was completely noticeable in her darkly dappled coat. As a breeze blew past, her knee length mane fluttered in the wind, as did her long tail. Relic opened her blue-tinted wings slightly, letting the wind sift through the feathers. The mare wanted to stretch her wings, but did not want to make it look like she was disrespecting the fae. Slowly, her wings stretched downward, their jagged edges touching the ground. When she was finished, her onyx wings folded themselves back to her dappled sides. Relic kept her dark ears forward, waiting patiently for the fae to speak.
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