Joy overpowered her senses and her heart leapt with an emotion that couldn't be named: her dream had been reached through her hardships and sacrifices to the herd. At last, Sikeax was able to bare the title of Sun Physican with the utmost pride. Going to the threshold had been her way of relieving excitement and calming wild nerves when there was usefulness to be made, or she would of been discovered beneath her tree back along the shore, sleeping the hours away. Her passive personality may even have to be tamed at the promotion.
The forest itself holds no unique scent of it's own, instead it takes everything that everyone who dare enter has and creates a stench that is unbareable with the reek of Aurora Basin(for her nostrils, that was) and whatever anyone had choosen to roll in before arriving. Ornaments of hair, mostly mottling coats that hung like rags and pelts from brushes and trees, littered the place. The Dragon's Throat was forever doomed with the collection of lost feathers across the sands, but the wind had a way of taking what didn't have a firm grasp. Here, the wind didn't tear away the lost pieces of nobodies due to wind barriers stated by the trees, and it became more of a shrine of those who were lost at sea, more of lost at Helovia.
Creeping gold lights wages a war with the blue glow of her horn, sparkling particles that could of been dust or insects flutter about the air before her as she exhales, forcing them to explode into violent acrobatics.
The animals are almost nonexistant in the Threshold, possibly run off by the constant noise destruction of peace by the equines, so that when the doe and lovely fawn catch the eye of the champagne, she watches in silence, bathing in the moment until they find something better to look at. When her eyes shift placement, she is greeted by an unknown equine, breathing relief into her bones. The distance of time since she had last seen an equine that was not of her herd was long, and she was slowly coming upon the belief that the racists had torn their species away. But there stood on in a beautiful display of dapples and soft, chocolates hues with enough simplicity of beauty that had become so rare, immediately drawing a thin smile almost foreign to her features. She missed Africa, and while she had seen the single winged Pegasus at the tree, Amara was more important and she hadn't taken up time to speak. Her heart sinks at the sight of dapples, heavy with one too many burdens.
The Threshold had always succeeded in finding a way to kill off her joy and leaping step.
"Hello, ma'am. I'm Sikeax of the Dragon's Throat. May I ask you of your name and answer any questions?"
Uneasy feelings coil in her stomach at giving out her name and place of home when she'd rather not, but that was not threshold etiquette. They had to know, they longed to know everything they could about you and where you came from, the lands, the folklore that a Diviner could be better at than her, and the dangers. It was an invasion of privacy by a stranger who may not even choose to follow you home, but with every passage into the train station of nomads, Sikeax grew more thick shelled with the act.

OOC: Welcome to Helovia! Be sure to fill out your profile in the key points such as appearance, personality, history and lineage before getting too far.
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