keep keep on running, there's no place like home

The cold of winter once again engulfed the lands, snow and ice as far as the eye could see, turning everything once familiar into a strange dreamscape. Much had seemed to change, not as much in the surroundings as on the personal level, since the snowy dove last set hoof on these lands. Magenta globes sought cautiously ahead, trying to discern any known figures but failing. She who had once been driven by a strong desire to find herself, to define her place in the world, had circled around to her initial starting point. It was nothing like what she had expected, but now Daenerys knew that her true home was with the World’s Edge. If only they would have her. Longing struck her youthful heart at the thought of her sister, the onyx DragonHeart, and she felt anxious for some reason. Mirage had always been very understanding of her whims and ideas, but by now Dany felt downright guilty for declining her hospitality when offered a safe home within the Edge. It was true that at the time, she had not agreed with the way that home came to be – when the soil still reeked of blood and remains of the former inhabitants lay scattered about – but she had grown wiser. War is by no means desirable, but it is a necessary evil in protecting your kin and serving their best interests. Even Dany knew that much by now.

Dainty figure shivered slightly, standing in the open, howling winds tugging fiercely at her silvery silken tresses. Golden underbelly reflected the sunlight as it was thrown up from the snow, flashing oddly as every now and then a cloud came to pass the sun. It was difficult not to feel sentimental about a return such as this, but instead of tears, a smile of serenity was painted upon her delicate features. Tiara lowered slightly, halting as the femme found herself across the borders. A soft whinny slipped from her velvet kissers, like a thousand silver bells it rang across the land, carried upon the wind to the ears of whoever may be near. The belle caught herself glancing over her shoulder, but she was yet alone, and a sting of sorrow pierced her heart, for neither of her children had followed. Eris and Ares lived within themselves, needing no one but each other, and since they had weaned and become handsome yearlings, they had insisted to go off on their own. What was more disturbing was the absence of her oldest son, Ahriman. He had always followed her through thick and thin, but he too had abandoned her at this time. Something about his absence left her deeply unsettled, but she figured he might have sought shelter from the cold winter weather here, with his beloved family of The Qian. One could always hope.