The grass was refreshing upon her tongue, the damp blades of greenery doing wonders to not only sate her hunger, but her thirst as well. In her time of escape, of running from those murderers, the white Andalusian neglected her own bodily needs. Janus' mind began to wander as she chewed on the sweet grass, wondering just what the grasses of this land were like in the seasons of rebirth. With winter so close, plants were beginning to wither and die, but that didn't stop the mare from enjoying her meal. She chewed thoughtfully before swallowing, head still held low, completely oblivious to the fact that she was no longer alone.

A voice echoed through the trees then, snatching her attention in less than a second. Janus' head shot up, ears pinned against the flat of her skull, and her head snapped to the side to spot just who had made himself known. Nostrils flaring in alarm, Janus took a step back as she surveyed him, ice-blue eyes locked on the pale stallion that had crept from the shadows. Questions blossomed in her breast; how long had he been watching?, Was he there to harm her?, Could he save her from herself Yet, as her eyes roamed over every curve of muscle and marred white hide, Janus simply felt as though there was nothing threatening about this newcomer. He had the look about of him of an experienced warrior who had seen many battles, and perhaps it was through that relation that the Andalusian found herself calming.

His words registered slowly, and the mud-covered mare listened. He spoke of war and the harm that it caused one's spirit and heart, and at his words, a bubble of emotion seemed to envelope her heart. It stung bitterly, and Janus found that she could no longer hold the stallion's gaze. With a slight turn of her head, the Andalusian looked downwards. So, then did he understand the pain of loss? The pain of watching the one you loved more than life itself fall to an enemy's blade? If only she had fallen in that war as well...

"Lev Fence," she whispered, her voice choked with sorrow, "Your words are kind and reassuring to hear, but I fear the only way you can help me is if you can ressurect the dead."

Blue eyes returned to Fence's marred white hide. She wondered where he had obtained his scars, but she would not ask. At least not right now. If being a soldier had taught her anything, it was that some stories were better left unsaid. Swallowing thickly against the emotion that threatened to rise, Janus took in a deep breath to try and steel her nerves. She needed to pull herself together, but... How? Janus knew nothing of living in the wilds; she had been hand-raised by Riveth in Vallhea. Would she even survive out here?

Letting out a soft, barely audible breath, Janus spoke. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude... My name is Janus. As much of a pleasure that it is to meet you, I wish we could have met on different circumstances. Could you... Maybe tell me where I am? I'm not from around here, and..." Cutting herself off, the war-mare turned her head, looking back the way she had come. "... And I really don't want to be sent on my way." Returning to the hands of those murderers was the last thing that she would do. Janus would rather die first.