Gaze narrowed slightly as yet another traveler harped into our territory, she swayed forward, gazing about the surrounding area. “Hail!” I called from above, not unkind, but also lacking my usual warmth. The onslaught of recent members had swelled our ranks – something that normally made me happy. Why wasn’t I overjoyed by yet another newcomer? Concerns that would have to be dealt with later.

Ivory and gold spread apart, yearning for the sky. I extend primary pinions to full length, slipping the feathers up and out as the breeze swamped below secondary tips. This dusty slat cliff fell away as my limbs tucked instinctively toward soft belly – they extend again moments later as the ground draws up. I alighted a fair distance away from the visitor, so not to send up or cover yon girl in an unnecessary wash of dust and grit. A calculated grin push’s forth, while feathers neatly close along spine, “Welcome friend, ye stands on the edge of Hidden Falls. How might I be of service?”

These guests and newcomers likely felt the coming of Frostfall, it was in the wind and water. Each morning the cool air greeted us with less sunlight and more bite. Winter was coming swiftly, and those caught in the outlaying lands would find life less than cushy. Predators, despite having a fair season to hunt – would still be around, their fangs and talons ready for an easy kill. Sadly, once the winter was over the many wanderers we took into our fold would end up leaving again. Returning to the wildlands.

She appeared lost, or otherwise unsure about her surroundings. No smile warmed that concerned face, nay, nothing but the narrowed brow of befuddlement. I settled in, quiet now and waiting for a reply. Said mare responded, but the question lacked real meat.

I’m left wondering where exactly this lass had been during the time of sickness and grief – when our numbers had shrunk and the dead haunted our footsteps. The gods had reshaped this territory and many other lands, raising the ground from ash and birthing anew. They did this out of necessity, Helovia had been tainted and unfit for life. Unfit for anything other than a quick death.

Before I could get a single word out to explain, the woman apologized. My smile gentled into one of familiar understanding and sympathy. “Say true. This land was once called such – Earth remade it after the time of sickness had passed.” Was this one a former foothills member then? A kinman thrown into the arms of outcast, one that fled the claws of disease only to return and find everything she once knew…completely gone?

Voice softened, easing into the next statement with compassion for her bewilderment, “Ye is welcome here regardless.” I’d not keep a clanmate from their home, “My name is Midas.” The shock of losing a home was one to be regarded with care, my first reaction might have been the same had Dragon’s Throat been so cruelly altered without explanation. These mountains still bore hints of that former landscape.