Light filtered down in a soft green dappling through the thick leaves overheard. It was almost ethereal how the bright yellow-white sunlight was transformed into a gentle glow that made everything in it's path look mystical. Even the moss-covered rocks nestled in between massive tree roots looked special. Birds twittered through the trees, light and carefree. It would be the perfect setting for a mystical creature such as a unicorn - but not for this unicorn.

Psyche was fuming. Her pelt was a harsh contrast to her soft surroundings, and as she passed, it all seemed to change. The birds stopped singing, the squirrels withdrew into their nests. Even the plants seemed to shrink a little bit. But then, perhaps it was just her ego getting the best of her - not that she was paying attention. She was far to angry for that, not to mention that such simple forest animals were beneath her. But that didn't matter today. No. Today, Psyche was on a mission. She was returning to the land of Helovia, following her child who had gone on a quest for his father. Which, of course, required her to return to his presence, which would be somewhat.... difficult. Dramatic. Any number of words could describe the situation.

It wasn't that she disliked Mauja. It wasn't that at all. In fact, the very fact that she felt anything except neutrality for anyone had been what drove her away. She did not connect with others. It simply did not happen. She was above that. She made alliances based on what she could get from them. This was her mantra.

And yet, she couldn't stop a small twinge from her black heart at the thought of seeing Mauja again.

Stop, she ordered herself silently. You are here for Sno. Sno and the Plague. You are here to finish what you started. That is all. Mauja was nothing to her, unless of course he was interested in allowing her to reclaim her rightful post as the leader of the Plague. And then he was only an alliance. As it should be. Psyche shook her head, her mane, with intertwined feathers from former pegasi victims of her wrath, flopping from side to side. She picked up the pace, eager to arrive, having steeled her resolve. Granted, she was far from the Edge yet, but she would be there sooner or later. She would rejoin the herd. She would be leader of the Plague. It would happen. Psyche would make it happen.

[ooc: Hope you don't mind me jumping in c: Also hope it's okay I posted before Lumina]

bound to wander forever, but maybe not alone The tobiano mare wandering, for lack of a better word, through the forest had nothing on her kindly mind. It was very clear through her warm brown eyes that she had a kindred spirit that had no intent of harm in it, nor racism. Attractive enough with her silky coat, thick feathering, and plain but inviting face. Perhaps more breath-taking was her coat, a shimmering blue-gray splashed white. Her bald face was mostly a clean pearl color, except for a splotch of blue-slate across one dark brown eye. She paused, her gray nostrils flaring delicately as she scented the air. A low hum started in her chest, and she shut her eyes for a moment, her long lashes a brilliant white. The scent of unicorn tainted the air- well, perhaps that wasn't the word. In all ways, Tor was opposed to racism. She was the antonym of 'racist'. Her belief was that unicorns, pegasi, horses, and hybrids, were basically all the same, except for a couple of changes. Why anybody would think to hate pegasi instead of admire them for their wings was beyond Tor's mind. As it was, unicorn scent was on the evening air. The Deep Forest was not a place Tor feared, and she paused for a moment, wondering if it would be best to pursue the possibly hostile encounter. She was well aware of the multiple rumors worming around about the World's Edge and it's racism, and Tor was also certain that the unicorn carried the bitter-sweetness of the unicorn's herd. No harm in at least checking it out, the mare decided, breaking into a brisk trot. Despite her graceful but heavy form, she was no delicate horse, and rather a clumsy one. Her form, most thinking it would be warlike as she was a Friesian cross, was incapable of the fluid movements of battle. For this reason, along with others, the mare had thought, and thought correctly, to pursue medicine and healing. She was questing at the moment, but there was nothing wrong with taking a detour through the forest. After all, I might as well check out for those Qian Paladin told me about, Tor mused, thinking back to the handsome warrior she had encountered in the Threshold. The scent enveloped her nostrils, and she tripped, bumbling through the brush and falling onto her knees before jerking herself back up, tensed at the sign of vulnerability. She lifted her eyes, and there was the unicorn. "blah blah blah." move move move think think think TOR