Weary, tired steps give her away to her thoughts, each carrying a different weight that holds tight to her head and leaves her to hold it where her spine is becomes of what a straight line it could ever be. Tainted and worried that her vibes will feed into the atmosphere of home, she gathered what she had of herself, and dragged a corpse of herself away. Lies to even her closest ones had left them in the dark of her still bothered and lost state. Worrying them had become the last wanted thing on her list. She had no heart to make herself needy for their attention, what they had to give to her with their own will and spare time was more than enough to show that she carried worth to their hearts.
Moving against a thin breeze so that the breath of the land was not to put the masses of hair to her eyes, entangling themselves about the horn that gave a faint outline to the features of her face with a blue glow. At some point in the time, a twig perhaps, had come to get a grasp on her hair and had refused to release her locks from it's hold, and in the process had taken a lock with it. That said lock had been wrapped about her horn. Somewhere, there was a stray lock of rough appearing hair hanging from a limp and being thrashed in the wind. Maybe not the wind that she threw herself against now, but some kind.
The earth never gave healthy grass along her path, the air always coated with some sort of salt. What had defied the soil had become a dust shade, tall, weak, not putting up much of a fight in what had become dusk. Bellies of Thunderheads growled distantly. Gaining attention, the pair of ears mounted bounced forward and switched directions rapidly between the two. The growls became more distant, fading into the indigo sky when the hard foundation of hardened lava came beneath her.
She stops, paws the ground with a few goes, grazing the edge of one front hoof where there had been some growth. Her hooves were cracked, beautifully manicured in the fashion that being born wild would give them. Neglecting to drag them across hard earth had left them overgrown, layered and messy. There would never be perfection for them.
Attracted to the idea of paying ownage, appeasement and love, possibly affection that worshippers gave to those worshipped, her physical state slowly morphed to the one that gave respect to her surroundings.
The shrines were cold, uncaring and lifeless as stone would always be. They could not watch her with eyes they did not have, speak to her with frozen lips she doubted ever moved. They stood for beings she was supposed to know existed, ones that left her curious when they came to her mind. She knew as much about them as others did.
Dipped down, eyes casted low before shutting, her body relaxed in waves before the one she believed to be for the God of the Earth. For her, there had always been a connection when she decided to begin healing, to follow a path that would take the rest of her life span with it. Her words colt in her prayer, confused as they spill from her lips at a low tone. She keeps her ears pricked forward, alert, attempting to show that she is not bothered by the aspect that she is nervous. Inside all of her nervousness, there is a free feeling of pride in how she barriers embarrassment from taking hold.

OOC: Takes place before the island thing, since I wrote it over the weekend and didn't have internet to see that it happened until way after I wrote it.

Wishlist: http://helovia.net/showthread.php?tid=8061

Would like to try for a quest from the Earth God for
[Earth x Water] :: the ability to heal using any form of water
Restrictions(that seem good for it): There must be a source of water for it be performed, which can't be generated. The more healing that needs to be done, the more water that needs to be available to do it. A lop of hole might be healing can be done to the point that the amount of water available could do.