It truly didn't take long for Janus to wander beyond the borders of the Foothills, her new home. Having attended the herd meeting, she felt a bit more in place, like the piece of a rather complicated puzzle that was just slotted into place... Yet there was a darker side to her, one that fretted that she would never be able to blend in, to accept the members of the Grey as her new family. Lev Fence had brought her in out of the kindness of his own heart, and the pale war-mount wouldn't forsake his invitation. She would settle in the Grey and fight with them, even if her heart felt detached.

Beneath pale, cream-kissed hooves, the snow crunched and crackled, sliding and giving way beneath the Andalusian's lithe weight. A bitter winter wind blew through the air, playing with the strands of the mare's long, white mane and tail. The skies, however, were clear, but the sight of the sun did little to warm the frigid chill of Frostfall. Through the land the mare walked in solitude, her head poised low, yet ice-blue eyes sharp and alert. After all, her time as a war-mount had taught her to not let down her guard while in a foreign place. What was this place called again...?

Oh, yes. The Heavenly Fields.

North from the Foothills, Janus had wandered, losing herself in the similiarties of the mountainous terrain between here and in Vallhea. Her subconsciousness made small connections between the two countries, which did nothing to help mend the troubled agony in her heart. Occasionally during her venture, the mare would pause and release a shuddering sigh. Was this what the future held for her? Bitter loneliness and self-loathing? Oh, Gods... Why couldn't she have fallen in battle with her beloved Riveth?

Lifting her head up to the clear skies, Janus released yet another breath. She told herself that it was simply the cold air that brought tears to her eyes. "...What do I do?" Janus questioned with heart ache choking her voice, her tone gravelly and low, "Please, just tell me, what do I do...?"

As her eyes lingered upon the skies, however, nothing came. The emptiness within the pale Andalusian grew, and a shuddering sigh shook the mare's barrel. It was moments like this, where she was left to her own thoughts and devices, that Janus found she missed her home in Vallhea terribly. How long had it been since Vallhea had fallen, and Riveth had been slain? A year...? Perhaps longer? That was how long she had been in captivitiy, taken by the enemy and used as a slave. The mare snorted, fiery rage shining within her ice-blue depths. Never again... Never again.