It was an interesting notion, drifting off towards the Threshold today. I was riding the thermals, whether they were naturally created or of my own invention, it mattered little. I was aimless, unless I happened to drift towards a herdland - I was not ready to face an entire tribe of unknown defenders, and though I yearned for knowledge of how those I knew weathered recent events, I was too full of shame to show my face to them in order to ask. Not only that, should anyone recognise that you are no longer by my side, and question me on it.. I think I would lose any semblance of control I've been demonstrating these past weeks since my return to my birthlands.

So as I drift towards the entrance (or is it an exit? I know it certainly was an exit when I left these lands as darkness swallowed up everything and everyone I knew..) of these lands, I prick my ears, ready for just about anything to happen. Will I be stopped from exiting? I wasn't halted last time. Would I welcome some newcomer into the lands? I never was any good at recruiting, always too brash and blunt for most, usually gifted with an unsure stare. I could never pay attention to a newcomer for long, too young and distracted by all the shiny thins life had to offer me back then. It is a saddening thought to think that those shiny things have lost their appeal - or have they disappeared altogether?

"Welcome to hell," I murmur quietly to myself as I approach the scene below, tucking my wings in tightly to my sides to allow me to drop beneath the canopy. The young colt's words hit my ears, and I almost roll my eyes at the predictability of it all. Recruiting. The scent of sand and desert hits me, and I recognise the unmistakable dusting of red sand along the colt's legs. No amount of travelling ever washed it all out, at least until that travelling spanned many seasons.. Like mine. He was an interesting colouring, and there was something familiar about him, though I was sure I had never encountered him before. Perhaps a relative?

My attention soon swivels to the other creature present, my sharp gaze taking in her different appearance with relative ease. I am usually fairly adaptable, having been born here, I've been exposed to almost every kind of magical event imaginable - and unimaginable - and this is no different. I am curious as to whether she can fly, though, or is she a pegasus gifted with wings that don't actually lift her? Both of the beings before me seemed to share coat colours, meanwhile I stood beneath the canopy, the cloudy sky above dancing across my hide, the shadows dappling the patterns further. My feathers shuffled against my shoulders, as I plastered a small smile upon my maw, the expression not entirely convincing as I still looked quizzically between the two.

"How goes it?" I ask, somewhat awkwardly, not really knowing why I was here, but deciding to linger around anyway.

[[ @[Zohariel] Cirrus just be crashing the Threshold yo ]]