They are wild together, racing through the new snow under the light of a watchful moon. Like two ghosts, they weave through the trees and dance along the plains of the Edge, content to lose themselves to the eternity that is their life. They know no bounds and no structure; they only know of the happiness that has guided them through the most recent year of their childhood. They have grown close enough to laugh without cause, cry without reason, and smile only because they are one in the same. They are unmarred by the hands of time and secure in their knowledge of the world in which they live.

They are unbroken.

Slender legs break through the current of the snow drifts and shortly in their wake come eager paws, hungry and lively for the cue to continue. They dance in the moonlight like ghosts, one prancing playfully before the other as they move. At times the girl pauses to allow her small companion to perch happily between her toes to breathe, to enjoy the mere comfort of her proximity. They love one another because it is familiar and they feel for one another because it is natural. For a time they rest, simply entertained to watch the curling mists of their warm breath against the cold winter backdrop. However, when the girl is ready, they return to the endless twilight revelry that defines their freedom.

However, it is not long before they are drawn toward the sullen lights of the flames that fill the Edge with friendly warmth. The invitation to its hearth is unmistakable and so the pair resumes their banter until they are but mere feet from the illuminating lights of their desired comfort. The girl trills delightedly to the small wolf pup she now calls Romul before she is suddenly quieted by the presence of yet another. Across the rising flames, her pallid eyes seek out the lavender shades of her unexpected company. She is quiet before them and her face is lit by the heat of the glowing embers that would otherwise create dread in any other setting of Helovia.

Essetia does not approach the older mare but instead calls to her from across the flames. “Hello.” She is shy and unwillingly to approach, but Romul is eager and presses his black nose into her ankle, reassuring and jubilant. When the girl looks down into his dark eyes, she finds immediate comfort in their depths because he is everything that she cannot be. He is brave and proud and dignified while she is shy and thoughtful and at times, wildly adventurous. With Romul’s guidance, the girl and her wolf move closer to the brindled mare and her own strange pet.

The girl had never seen the likes of the small tiger before and while she is curious, she is careful to keep her distance. In the moments that followed, Essetia began to learn why the lavender mare had come to the fire for solace in the first place. She had not been romping in the snow, losing herself beneath the moonlight, no, she was injured… Even Essetia had become familiar with the metallic scent of blood. With another hesitant look to Romul, she swallowed her fear and took another step forward until she was close enough to inspect the wound that was now illuminated heavily by the healthy fire at her back. “Does it hurt?”

Her quiet tones were followed by the soft murmuring of Romul who was now more than willing to assist his beloved in her quest to help the broken mare. Their minds were still young, still shaping and forming to the wills of knowledge and so they stayed, hopeful and grateful that they had been the first to discover the broken woman and her tiger. They needed to feel useful now more than ever and so they perched determinedly before the others, curiosity getting the better of them both.