The sadness that plagued my beloved was difficult to ignore, it ran so deep, and felt so permanent, I could not help but walk with my eyes downcast, my ears pinned against my dark skull. Despite the heat of the season bearing down upon us, a constant, gloomy chill seems to follow us around, a misty drizzle that leaves me with an annoyed dampness in my fur, even when the elemental flame ignites along my spine. It has been a handful of days since the passing of one of the most important figures in our lives, and they have all posed similar outlooks; gloom, darkness, depression. I sigh heavily, as I done so often recently, plagued by the sadness myself but willing to move on, if only she would too. Her thoughts never drift far from the event, from when we found he body, lying there, motionless; dead. I try to instil my own images, my own thoughts into the equation, trying to impress upon her the gleaming fire of hope we were shown by the Gods after his death, and the gift they had bestowed upon her.

It was not that I longed for her to forget about him, for that was something that would be impossible, I simply longed for her to accept his death, just as one accepts that sometimes tragedies happen, and they are unexplainable. I wanted the grief to move on, the dark raincloud that hovered ominously both above her and upon her pelt to shift, to reveal the sunny blue skies and bright smiles that I knew existed in there. But it was as stubborn as the belle herself, determined to linger, to damage, to scar so deeply that it would take years to scab over. I held faith that that would not happen, that she would heal sooner; I would ensure it was so.

Thoughts drifted, as they so often did, to the events leading up to the death of our father, for he was truly a figure of paternity to me. There was a crisis afoot, a threat to our herd, a promise of chaos in the near future, and he was not here. He had left us, and in his wake, he had left a gaping hole. He had always been supportive of our Leader, the compact, cocoa hued little mare who so effortlessly led us to victory time and again against any foe. Just as replayed any words he might have said in the past, I heard his voice echo about the cranium of my little cloud now, declaring their warrior's fit for the trial to come, announcing proudly his support for his leader, offering to fly by her side when she went to reaffirm alliances, and to warn their allies of the threat. He was not here now, and perhaps it was a mark of maturity in my little bondmate that she felt responsible for ensuring his promise was fulfilled.

So when Kri took her leave of the sandy home we inhabited, we followed. I had sat upon the back of my beloved before, but never in the skies. She promised to fly straight and steady for me, and I trusted her, though I will admit that fear gripped at my heart for most of the adventure. I whined quietly in the ears of my beloved as she flew, and she sympathised for a few minutes before promptly telling me to 'shut up'. Sulky, yet determined to show her that I could handle this, I silenced my worrisome voice and merely held on with my body and paws to the strong, young bodice of my little cloud. Flying is something that I am undecided about still, at least flying as a passenger. It is terrifying, exhilarating, efficient and downright dangerous. But we landed, intact, beside the chocolate form of our leader, upon the borders of the Worlds Edge herd.

I jump without hesitation from the height of her shoulders, shaking myself, accidently igniting the flames along my back as I did so. A breeze still followed us, one that was too chilly to be a normal breeze, and I knew that it was my little cloud's sadness, her melancholy evident by the fact that it was she standing here and not Azzuen. Obediently she sidled up to the leader, the stoic mare who had proved herself time and again to her and the Dragon's Throat herd, nodding her delicate tiara to al that had gathered. Large paws dragged my dark bodice over the loam, my nostrils working hard to store as much details as I could about the salty air, and those who would live by it, similarly to us, though instead of being rimmed by a beach, they were rimmed by cliff faces. I look between the two dark figurines that have stepped forth to greet us so far, and wonder, was this a land where only shadows resided? As I pull myself alongside the sturdy foreleg of my beloved, I notice her pelt is as dark and stormy as the shadow creatures standing before us, and I can only internally shake my head at her depression, her predicament is not easy, and soon I would need to chase it away with more force. For now, nothing more than our presences were needed, and so we stood, silent, supportive, statues of a promise that would not be forgotten.