| Quite by accident, you have stumbled across the little clearing again. At first, you cannot quite place it—after all, last time you were here, the weather was ugly and you had more pressing things on hand than the scenery (Confutatis, for example). But soon enough, something clicks in your brain: this is the place of weary travelers, of beginnings and endings. It is the very threshold where you entered Helovia two seasons ago.
It’s funny to you how this in-between land seems so foreign only a few months later. You come and go from land to land as you please—Helovia is not the first strange country you’ve visited by far—but to you, it feels as if you have been here much longer than you actually have. It’s strange how time works as you get older. The days fly by, and every successive year seems shorter than the one before, but here, every sunny day seems to blend into one indistinguishable amount of time. Maybe it’s the amount of time you have spent alone since your arrival, but nevertheless, two seasons feels like one long, boring eternity. Briefly, you toy with the idea of going back from whence you came, but you know that there is nothing for you there. Besides, you haven’t quite gotten a handle on this place, figured out how it works and who’s in charge. The mystery is compelling enough to leave you lingering. No, you will not go just yet. The party has barely begun!
You emerge from behind a large tree, and suddenly, a stranger comes into view. The stag is massive, and though he is on the ground, it is obvious that much bigger than you. He is downwind, and will easily be able to scent you, but it is too late to do much about it except for run, and turning tail like a lily-livered coward is something you absolutely refuse to do. Come on, Sheba, you chide yourself. It’s not like you haven’t handled big boys before. The thought brings a smirk to your ebony lips, and your ego purrs contentedly. With a new grace in your step, you stride towards the stranger.
However, you are not alone. A filly has wandered into the clearing, and she too surveys the prone figure. Your tail twitches in annoyance (you found him first!), but she is merely a child, no threat to you. If anything, she is bold—if she wants to be the one to prod the sleeping giant, you will let her. Curtly, you nod a silent greeting to the scaly-winged pegasus and await the stranger’s awakening.
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