The shadows of night had become stale, now paled by the break of dawn. Dark wings were thunder, her eyes violent, carmine imbued flame, glossy furnaces almost childishly bright with glee – she reveled at the warm winds clawing through the wild decadence of tempestuous locks, which streamed around her and whipped her skin; this was bliss, for the burning skies of the desert where again her home. This realm was another mother, far from the bosom of hellfire sands heaving skyward that had birthed her, a place of fire, of barbaric storms of lightning and wind and sand, mere ornamentation's of a place possessing such alien beauty…the oblate ground and lush oasis of the Throat were far kinder, a more modest entity when compared to the scarlet witch realm, this new eden so lush that the mare would have feared becoming soft, if not well aware of the rigidity bred into her by the unbridled dynamism of her prior home.

Her interest would never entirely stray from the skies, but the secrecy of the land, with it’s hidden corners and secret places a plenty naturally drew her inquiring eye as well; she had not even been here for a season, and there was still much to enjoy. Godiva descended alongside the great tree’s base with little fanfare, she coasting in a weightless, circling fall from the heaven’s to alight amongst the gnarled arms of it’s sprawling roots. The shock of impact trembled through willowy leg to breast as a gilt hoof delivered the avian figure to the ground, her mane tossed back in a feminine flourish of her neck, still slick with sweat and beading dew. She had fallen among the lush green carpet of the oasis garden, and stood silently admiring the fortitude of the flora that managed to blossom in a place of such heat; even the cool descent of fall had done little to lessen the sun’s presence, though she much enjoyed the familiar sting at her back, drying her wings of the cloud’s breath and the ice that formed at the higher reaches of the sky.

She felt a moment’s urge to wander onward still, and her glance shifted to the west, where the distance of flatland merged with that corner of sky still so absent of morning light; it seeming to stretch so endlessly that her vision blurred. The sudden quietude of shade trumped her will to wander on, and instead, a hoof was outstretched, then another, to lead her closer to the water’s edge, rosy eyes rolled about in a search for something to do a bit closer to her current location.

Another made their presence known in a gentle manner, a soft utterance of breath that drew Godiva’s stance to shift from it’s lackluster path to the water’s edge. Gilt hooves shuffled with indolent precision to turn her figure aside, broad hindquarters swung aside to angle over towards the other, the inherently warm glow of her gaze softening, cooled by the gentler wrinkling around rosy eyes, welcoming and tranquil; the euphoria of flight was quieted in her heart. Perhaps it was the other’s lack of wing that subdued her so – though a stranger to recognizing such emotion, and far less so one to visibly display it’s registry, the dame regarded such a loss as a horrific thing.

It was a curse that she would wish upon no creature that had experienced the wild and inane splendor of hurtling through burning skies and winds glazed with frost; though lukewarm in temperament and calculating in manner, she was not unkind. The severing of such limbs was either a punishment or among the most wicked of sins; she knew not which applied for the grey mare. Nevertheless, it made her ache to witness it in those milliseconds before control returned with practiced artistry. Blush pink lips pursed lightly for a mere moment before the expression shifted to one more tender, the face presented phased into her unique manner of a smile – smooth and thin lipped, with eyes soft up above. Her chin dipped modestly with the greeting, and with that simple gesture, her body eased into movement to near the other.

“Indeed. Though some light is present even at eventide, I do often still desire something more - this time provides a clarity that no other seems able to lend.” Her native old english was only kept from her choice of phrasing, the sing-song fall of the archaic tongue otherwise heavy in every lilt and punctuation of each tame utterance - but the words came flawlessly smooth, for she spoke the honest truth. The convergence of hush and songsbird's cry, the crisp air pulled into her lungs; it was a pleasure that she had enjoyed before even a fledgling.

She paused at a comfortable distance from the other - less than a yard easily between each velvet muzzle - the direction of her gaze wavering only to swerve to the creature whose details had become more pronounced with proximity – the urge to question was suppressed though, in light of the rituals of introduction she had yet to complete. "Though having dwelt here for moon, I have come to know this land well, but many faces are still a mystery to me - certainly my own is, to many others. I am Godiva."