Kahlua

How long had it been since she had actually been back to the little hovel she tended to hide out in? Too long, perhaps. The queen, so busy with returning the herd to normal function, had not been there since before the darkness. Finally finding a moment of alone time- though she really would have preferred the company of another- Kahlua headed back towards the little copse of trees. On the ground, there were still scattered the various remains of a few gems she had picked up on her several trips through the Heart, their colors sparkling in the spring sun against the soft nettles that lined the floor. Though they were now more or less useless to her, as her ability to craft had been replaced with a new gift from the Lady Moon, she found that she liked the way they decorated the place and decided not to gather them together into a pile, but rather to leave them in a chaotic mess scattered about.

In the place where her basket should have rested, the queen noted a very conspicuous absence of glass, shaking her head that she had forgotten it in the caves in all her merriment. She was not in any way excited to go back there, but the basket was all she had left of her crafting days and it meant a great deal to her. She would have to find it. At least the Dragon Statue still stood, not so far off where Mirage used to call their meetings, a glorious reminder of the leaders of the past. Kahlua was no dragon queen, she never would be one, but perhaps she could bring her own glory to this herd. She would try, at the very least.

What was still here and had managed to keep itself out of trouble was the small scorpion that had been crafted for her and Kahlua quickly lowered her nose to it, letting it climb atop her skull to rest between her ears where it belonged. It's creaking and whining no longer confused her, instead she took them as the pleasantries of a friend, a gentle one-sided conversation that she did not understand at all.

Looking up, the queen was not surprised to find Dragomir wandering the wood, his own little slice of heaven somewhere near here. “Dragomir,” she called while he was still some way off, oblivious to the glass that rested on his back as of yet. “Come to the cliff with me!” she cried out, not waiting for his response before talking off at a gentle canter towards the steep drop that marked the northern border of the land. Breaking through the tree line, the queen slowed to a walk, mindful of the steep drop that had claimed Antheia's life and the fact that she did not yet wish to join the mare in whatever heaven she resided in. Looking back with a laugh, the queen tried to spot the stallion, her eyes bright and her heart happy.