It was early morning and the sun was beginning to rise, cascading the sky in a brilliant display of pink and purple. It was a stark contrast to the night before, when a storm had ravaged the land and lightning had shook the earth to it's very core. The grass and leaves were drenched in left-over rain water, but soon it would evaporate. There was a chill on the breeze, a sign that winter was growing closer and closer with each day that passed, but perhaps the day would grow warmer once the sun rose higher into the sky. For now, however, birds began to creep from their homes and woodland creatures began to emerge from their dens, intent on foraging for food.

It was a peaceful day, now that the night's storm had passed, yet for one weary traveler, the peace meant nothing. It was blurred and ignored by the warring in her heart, her mind bitter and lost as mud-caked hooves stepped lethargically over a fallen log. The mare's once-white coat was splotched with mud from her mad dash into the forest, hardened clumps of dirt caught and tangled in the long strands of her mane and tail. There had been other things to worry about than her vanity during her mad escape the night before...

Each step that the mare took was agony, muscles rippling and twitching in exhaustion. Nostrils flared with each heaving breath, and the Andalusian's head was held low. All she could feel was a painful emptiness, the torment of loss robbing her from the beauty of her surroundings. No, Janus cared not for the sun that shone upon her marred white coat, nor the sweet and beautiful song of the birds that chirped from above... The only thing that was on her mind was that she had failed. Failed.

'... She's gone,' Janus thought bitterly, ache and sorrow causing her heart to throb as if in physical pain, 'They killed her... Oh, Riveth. What do I do?'

Janus was not one to live alone, for she had always had the company of Riveth, her beloved rider. Yet, the Elfen girl was no longer alive; Vallhea had finally fallen, and those who weren't killed were taken prisoner, leaving the ivory mare without her safeguard. The only thing left that she had left from her beloved rider was a collection of leather-strewn beads, braided into the white of her mane right behind her ear. Perhaps, Janus thought bitterly, death was an escape for what those murderers would have done otherwise. Even thinking such a thing did nothing to lessen the pain, however.

Ice blue eyes rose, quickly scanning her surroundings and taking in the trees that decorated the landscape. Fall was in full-swing, the colors of the leaves varrying from yellows to reds, some orange... Idly the Andalusian wondered just where she was. In her mad-dash to escape, location had been unimportant. All she had known was that she needed to get away from her captors... Now, however, the mare wished she had taken more care to keep track of where she had been.

Scratched and bruised legs halted, hooves sinking into the moist ground, and Janus let out a breath of exhaustion. The war-mare would be a fool to ler her guard down, but... She was so exhausted. Were there others here, in this beautiful land? Would they be friend or foe? Regardless, Janus lowered her head and lipped at a few blades of wet grass in an attempt to sate her hunger. If one looked upon her, they would only see a dejected, pathetic looking creature; skinny, covered in mud from the tip of her muzzle to the tip of her tail, and a haunted look to her blue eyes. An expired warrior, she was, lost without purpose.

Janus couldn't help but snort in self-loathing. "... Some war-mount I am," she muttered bitterly, teeth pulling a few blades of grass free from the damp earth, "Pathetic."