It was a long way home from the vastness of the Endless Blue. Arya reveled in the adventure to pry her mind away from the grief and anxiety. She lay nestled underneath a low tree to rest her tired body. There was only a small bit of road left to wander before she would reach home, but, she had little desire to return. Her parent’s empty caves would just be a bitter reminder of what was lost. They would just remind her of the fear and hatred that she struggled to stifle. Fire burned through her veins as images of the winged man flickered through her mind. She had old that stranger of her promise of vengeance. One day she would rob of him something he held most dear.

The scent of another drew her attention from her thoughts. The huntress snapped her head in the direction of the scent and saw a figure a short distance off. First thing she made note of were wings. For a moment her anger began to burn brightly and she rose to her feet. After a moment she noted that it was definitely not the stallion that took her mother. Perhaps the winged ones lived together. Yes, she would question whoever they were and find out.

Arya trotted over toward the stranger. As she drew closer she realized he couldn’t have been much older than herself, if he were older at all. Then she noted the glow that emitted from his wings. Curious… She would have to ask about that later. There were more questions to be answered.

“Hey!” She called as she finally came to a stop. “Hey, you!” Both of her ears were pricked forward as she studied the other colt. “I’m looking for someone and he has wings just like you. He’s big, brown, talks kinda funny and has antlers on his head. Oh his wings were on fire but didn’t seem to hurt him.” She dared to take a step closer as her eyes bore into the other boy as she sought eye contact. “Do you know him? If you do.. Do you know where he lives?”

@[Rhoa]

"speech"

Arya nodded her head as the boy greeted her in return. It was a bit less hostile than she was expecting. That was definitely a better reaction than she had expected. Her own greeting had been more abrasive than polite. She wasn’t the silvertongued woman her mother was. Arya was a woman of strength not words. She wouldn’t be fragile like the women of her bloodline(not like she knew much of the women of her bloodline anyways).

It seemed as though her boldness was in her favor as the boy declared the man’s name, title, and even his home. They called him the Wildfire. Fire was easily doused with water. She would unleash a flood upon him and this Dragon’s Throat. There would be a day where she would rattle the earth with her hooves and shake the sky with her battle cries. That day would be the day this Gaucho would taste the bitterness of loss and the pain of a wounded child.

The boy would proceed and declare his relations to the man. Both of her eyes widened and she felt herself take a step back. Here was her chance. Here was her opportunity to rob the man of something he loved, and yet she found herself unable to move. Loathing swelled up in her chest, but it wasn’t at the boy or even his father but at herself. Arya was becoming a monster. When would her younger self ever had justified the murder of an innocent? All she wanted to be was a hero and yet there she stood a bloodlusting villain and that hurt more than any blow to the flesh.

“He came upon my home and stole my mother. He claimed it was ‘her doing' when I spoke to him. Your father didn’t care he was taking my mother and that I would be alone. Can you even comprehend how it feels to be completely and utterly alone?” She felt all her sorrow seep into her tone. “Everyone I love has been taken and your father took the most important person to me. He is an evil man and I won't let what he's done go unpunished.”

"talk talk talk"

Arya felt her ears slam back against her skull as the boy spoke. He made claims of honor and tried to pin her mother as some villain. Everything that had been pent up began to bubble at to the surface. Had circumstances been different she knew there would’ve been potential for friendship, but any who justified that villain’s actions were no friend of hers.

“Do not call what he did honorable! Do not try to paint him as some kind of saint. He wasn’t some valiant hero trying to defend his people. All he was trying to do was salvage his pride because my mother outwitted him. He couldn’t handle the thought that he and his herd mates were incapable of protecting their own possessions.” Arya said. “And that’s all she stole, items. I never heard about the dead bodies and if she did something she had a good reason.”

Part of her wished to scream at the boy. Part of he wanted to take out all of the misery she felt and force him to bear her burden. As of late all she had been was helpless. Youth prevented her from accomplishing anything. She had once believed herself just as capable as any adult, but that belief died with the filly that bled out in the snow. Now she was simply a bitter adolescent. Never once would she have expected her life to become what it was.

Arya laughed at his final words. She shook her head and narrowed her gaze as her fit of malicious giggles ceased. “My mother was doing her duty. I will not resent the fact she did what she was tasked with. As for “justice”, my mother wouldn’t look into the eyes of a child and say “this her doing.” My mother wouldn’t leave a child ON THEIR OWN! MY MOTHER IS TWICE THE PERSON YOUR FATHER EVER WILL BE!” Every ounce of anger she had felt over the past few days exploded and she unleashed the fire that burned in her heart. But the fire dulled and turned to but simmering coals as the sorrow took hold. Her irrational passions settled and she allowed the tears she had bottled up for so long slip down her cheeks. “The wrongs of a father don’t reflect upon the son… I-I… Shouldn’t… I’m sorry for attacking you. What your father did isn’t our fault. There isn’t a point in arguing as it’s unlikely I’ll change your mind.”

She sniffled and inhaled deeply. When she thought she had composure she tried to offer him an awkward smile. “I can’t start over… But I don’t want old grudges between our herds to divide us because I.. I am tired of being alone. I’m Arya.”

The desire for at least neutrality didn’t mean her hatred toward this Gaucho had been settled. It only meant she would bide her time. It only meant she wouldn't let her opinion of another be her opinion of his son. She doubted any chance of redemption within this boy's eyes but she would at least try.

"talk talk talk"

The argument was going in circles. Arya would never let her godlike view of her mother alter. She wouldn’t let the son of an enemy tarnish the image of her mother. When she had been barely more than a season old she had declared her preference for her mother over her father. She had looked the man who had partook in her creation and defined her love for him was lesser. That was when he simply said, mothers were gods in the eyes of their children. The words had meant nothing to her at the time, but she finally understood what her father meant.

Her tears had dried and she noticed the tension in the air seemed to settle. It was an honest relief that maybe there was potential for redemption. The huntress might’ve developed a cynical heart, but she was still hungry for friends. She listened in silence as he declared ignorance of old feuds. Funny, she didn’t particularly know why either. He went on and she nodded her head slowly. She smiled at his laughter, but couldn’t muster up any herself. At least one of them could laugh. Above all else it was a relief that the mood shifted so drastically.

“I’m sorry to.” She said slowly. Arya couldn’t truly tell whether she was sorry for their meeting or her mother’s capture. “I wouldn’t bind yourself to a promise you might not be able to keep. Only make a vow if you can fulfill it.” Too many idiotic heroes had deals, bargains, and oaths they didn’t wind up honoring. She knew very well there was little value on the promise of one so close to her age. Youth disabled any influence. “I hope that is the case.” Every day that passed agonized her heart.

Rhoa’s question took her slightly off-guard. The huntress racked her brain for any story or hint either parent might’ve dropped. In the end, she only shook her head with a slight bit of disappointment. “We should learn what it is though. I’m sure each herd has it’s own side though.” She paused for a moment and she realized that she knew little about the Dragon’s Throat in general. “What’s it like in the Dragon’s Throat? Is everyone winged like you?”

@[Rhoa]

"talk talk talk"

As the huntress absorbed stories, she absorbed Rhoa’s words. Her mind took in each syllable and began to build her mental image. With each description added her landscape grew. This place sounded like the precise opposite of her homeland. Where the Basin was crisp and cold, the Throat seemed dry and heated. All her life she had only heard stories of deserts. Part of her found it odd her father never even bothered to mention the Throat. There were many things her father had withheld from her as a child though. It was just one more thing to add to the list, and just another reason for her preference for her mother. Mostly the winged… It seemed as though maybe they weren’t that different in some ways. Each place offered sanctuary to one kind and she saw little issue with that. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder why unicorns craved the desert. There was the safety and kin of the Basin. Oh well, it wasn’t her place to know.

“Being small means you can be closely knit.” She said with a bit of a smile. “My herd feels so large… Yet I know so few faces there.” Only a handful she new by name and she was alright with that. As a child she had little interest in adults and their antics. Her mind was caught up in stories of extravagance and heroism. At his question both of her ears pricked forward. There was so much to the Basin and she couldn’t even find a place to start.

“Not all unicorns," She said. “We have one winged person there that I’ve seen. She still had a horn though.” She shrugged slightly. It was then she began to dig through her mind to find a way to describe the vastness that was the Basin. “It’s cold. Like reeaaaaallllyyy cold.” She paused and tried to find ways to describe it in a brief fashion. “The Basin is in the northern parts of Helovia tucked away in a mountain. When you enter there are two massive sentinels. They move and protect the Basin from intruders. There are hot springs. They are great on really cold day and there’s a lake to but I don’t really swim in or anything. I think most of us live in the network of caves in the Basin. Those aren’t the best part though.” A grin passed over her lips at the very thought of her favorite part of the Basin. “On some nights the Auroras come out. They are beams of color that dance across the night sky. When you look up it’s just… I can’t even find words to describe it. One you’ll have to fly up near the Basin so you can see them. You’ll never find anything like it in the Throat.” Or at least she assumed. How would she know what it was like there?

“One day I’m just going to wander Helovia. I’ll leave the Basin for awhile and go to see it all.” She gazed away from Rhoa and out toward the vast meadow. “I used to think the world was just a massive, beautiful place.” Her gaze flickered back toward Rhoa. “But now I know it’s just as dangerous as it is beautiful. Someday I want you to show me the Throat.” It wasn’t a request or a question, rather a statement. One day she would visit the place of her enemy and look upon it.

"talk talk talk"