With a sigh, Kahlua had turned her way south from the Threshold and began trotting towards the warm sands of the Throat. She had been putting off this trip for far too long, at first uncertain of what the proper etiquette was and then later occupied with invasions and healing and trying to get back to normal. Still, the lingering feeling that she needed to go back to the sandy lands had not faded from her mind. Onni had saved her life from that terrible monstrosity that had crawled from the depths of hell and dared to attack Helovia. Even if she did not know to say thank you, she knew that she must say thank you for her own sake and for the sake of diplomacy.

As she moved with purpose to the south, she occasionally touched her nose to her chest. The plum colored stone that hung around her neck gave her strength now. She had come into the lands naïve to the evils that could and would make their way into her life. Onni had tried to warn her, though Kahlua had tried her best not to listen. Still, ignorance is not always bliss. What had started as Kahlua believing the shaman to be crazy had quickly turned into Kahlua's reality. Every shadow was capable of holding another monster, every tree acting as a wall to hide another unnatural being. But where Kahlua's bravery failed she could not look to the gods for solace. They had seen fit to bring an amulet into her life. And though Kahlua was unaware of what power it held, she felt safer just knowing it hung about her neck.

What should have been a long journey seemed to pass by in an instant. Before she knew it the lands were turning looser, the soil slowly giving way to sand, and she slowed to a walk. With the moon shinning down brightly above her, Kahlua stopped near the edge of the border that Onni had welcomed her into so long ago. Though she had been a welcome visitor a season past, she could not be certain that her status was the same and she had no desire to incite the wrath of any warriors in the land. “Onni!” Her dancing voice sang brightly out, hoping only the shaman would come.

As quickly as she called, however, she regretted it. Somewhere in these lands, if he was indeed home this day, was the stallion with the metal collar. The winged stallion with golden, pupil-less eyes. He would know her voice. She could only hope he would not come. Her two meetings with him had been wildly strange and she was in no hurry to fall prey to his horrors again. And so she stood, shifting from side to side in confusion (for what she was to say if Onni should arrive) and fear (that the pinto pegasus should appear), hoping that she would know what to say when the time came.

@[Onni], and anyone else that wishes to join