They drowned under the surface, their souls breaking, collapsing, fracturing, shattering and crumbling. Smothered for life, shielded by naught but one's desire to keep them in the repressing dark. Yet their lives had burned up, as they were betrayed and now there was no way they could go back.
Gods.
What a laughable excuse for a name. One controlled the very grass and earth she stood upon, another controlled the life giving sun, it presence burned above her and the last controlled the very ripples of time. Banishment?
Idiots.
Only a few days ago, when she had witness their lack of respect for the mortals, was the day she had forsworn them. No longer would she pray to those empty, deceitful, shells; there was nothing in their eyes.

Wynter swooped through the clouds, high above the doe she soared. Her form was graceful and each day her bonded seemed to grow tougher. Since they won their battle against Saffron, the fae princess felt as if their bond had become stronger, their souls woven together by fate. They belonged together, anyone could see that. Hunger had been the cause of Wynter's moaning this morning, growing tired of it, Arah sent her bonded off hunting. This was the one thing Wynter insisted she do alone. Arah couldn't say she minded, it all became a bloody mess quickly.

Turning away from her bonded's form, Arah faced the direction that the Basin lay in. It had been far too long since she had returned to her home, it was not that she feared anyone inside. It was more her daughter's absence, they hadn't been around for so long and it caused her worry. Their fates unknown and perhaps would never been discovered. Where their explorations had lead them and why they chose to leave would always remain a mystery to her, perhaps it was best that she did not know, this way she would always be able to remember them as the tiny babes they had been when they where first born. Her girls.

Then there was Crowley, once he had been a gentleman to her. She'd felt as if there had been a genuine connection between them. It was not love, not even at the time had she believed this - perhaps she had not been as foolish as she once believed. Yet he just disappeared on her and their babes, she had not seen him since. Now there was not even common ground between them, the anger at his betrayal still boiled in the pit of her stomach which cause the silver doe to doubt them ever reconciling.

Still, she had duties and responsibilities in The Basin and she had spent far too much time away from them. Reporting the suspicious behaviour in The Deep Forest, the events between the Gods and her other adventures were of importance. Sighing the doe began to weave through the scrub that covered this part of Helovia. The world was starting to heat up Tallsun had arrived in truth and it was promising to be unforgiving in it's heat. She knew that a stream ran ahead, she would cool off and spend her day here before traveling at night back to The Basin to escape the heat. Quickly she found the stream, it's water's rushing off to some unknown destination. She stepped into it, sinking in until the water rushed at her sides, soothing the last healing wounds and aches of her previous battle. It was quiet for once, something the fae princess rarely experienced. No one else around and with Wynter off hunting their bond was silent; just Arah, bathing in the rushing streams enjoying the natural balance of cool water on her lower body and the warm sun heating her back. Her lids close, blocking out the brightness of day, a small smile lighting up her chops. Slowly she lets her guard down, allowing any anxiousness or worry to seep away into the soothing waters. "Perhaps Aurora Basin really is too cold." Her hymn is light and quiet, words that would be forever lost into gurgling noises of the water unless one crept upon her, close enough to hear. A chuckle tumbles from her chops, it felt like the first time she had been relaxed in a while.

There was a restlessness that befell many creatures in the first days of summer. Much like the birds, the deer, and other wildlife, being confined to one spot no longer kept Roland content. The last of the snow melt had dried from the Basin's ground, the trees were heavily laden with leaves, and wildflowers were in full bloom across the meadows. The air was warm, even if the wind still carried a slight chill in the night, and the Thief had begun to grow tired of looking out upon the same, jagged silhouette of mountains day after day. He longed for a change of scenery, and a chance to stretch his legs. The walk from one side of the valley to the other, a journey he made regularly, was no longer exercise enough, and finally he was convinced to leave his home behind and venture south.

It was always a strange feeling, to leave a home behind with the intention of returning at some point. He never glanced back as he followed the well worn trail through the mountain pass; that, at the very least, had not changed. But he knew that within a few days time he would follow his foot prints back into the Basin's kingdom, rather than straying from it ever more, burdening himself with another name, another past, another personality. After so many years spent as a chameleon, ever shifting, taking upon a new identity, every reaction had come to feel like a ruse, a lie. He was forever cursed to hide behind a dubious impersonation of himself.

The Thistle Meadow was alive with birdsong when he arrived at its edge. Sparrows and woodlarks hopped from tree to tree, green boughs bending beneath their tiny feet. The grass swayed with the scampering patterns of hares as they darted through the underbrush. It was pleasant enough, to see the field so alive beneath the sun. But the heat, that was another matter entirely. It was thick, heavy, clinging to his skin like a flame. There seemed to be no escape from it. The Thief would walk in shade wherever he could find it, slipping from shadow to shadow while cursing the unforgiving warmth of the midday sun. Sweat had begun to bead on his flesh, dripping down his golden sides.

He made his way leisurely towards the water he knew could be found at the meadow's edge, doing his best to ignore the dryness of his throat. As he neared, it became apparent that he was not the only one looking for respite from the heat. There was a white figure in the stream, long hair spilling over her neck and a pair of antlers rising from her crown. Roland could have recognized that form anywhere. At once he brightened, chest swelling with surprise and happiness all at once. A smile was already on the edge of his lips as he neared, feet moving quickly through the tall grass until he was perched upon the bank, a crafty glint in his eyes. How long had it been since he'd seen her last? Years? Far too long, regardless. He could hardly believe she was standing there before him. "Hello stranger."

The voice startled her, causing the fae to jump, her eyes flew open as she looked over to the one who had startled her. Then almost immediately her fright turned to joy and the darker mood that had begun to settle upon her lightened considerably. "Well, well, well." Laughing she exists the water and moves closer to the one she would consider her oldest friend. Eyes revolving over his body, gaze scrutinising as she studied him checking to make sure he was (at least this time) not suffering from any bites. All appeared to be well however, her eyes brightened as she looked upon him. Who would have thought they would meet here of all places?

She thought back to when they had first met, this handsome stag who was still quite impressive apart from the bleeding wound on his neck. The way she had panicked, almost certain he was about to die on her. The doe remember bathing him - a complete stranger! It was true, Roland had captured her attention from the start. Perhaps it things had worked out a little different he would have also captured her heart. These were thoughts for a different time though, because here he was-in the flesh. Laughing gently Arah shook her head before sighing in content. It wasn't until now, with him standing in front of her, she had realised just how much she had missed him. It was as if they were strangers, she had no idea what he'd been up too or where he had been spending his time. The last time she saw him was probably back when he had been named thief a few herd meetings ago. Was he still in this position?

"It's been far too long Roland!" Although her hymn is gentle, the tones of excitement are unmissable. As she looks upon his golden hued body, the doe continues to scrutinise him, checking for any visible damage to his person. Perhaps some mothering instincts have remained with her even after her daughters have long since grown and left the nest. Reaching up the doe moves to gently brush her cheek along his should he not move. It is a friendly gesture and one that shows just how glad she was to finally see him again, in the flesh. Moving back into her own space Arah turns away at the sound of a cry from above. Wynter was returning in much less time than the fae princess would have thought. The griffin swooped down before smoothly (and thankfully gently) atop the doe, the keen eyes peering at Roland with interest. Clicking her beak, the griffin took one last look at the thief until she turned curled on the doe's withers and promptly fell asleep. Honestly, Wynter had getting far too big to sleep on Arah months ago but this didn't stop the rather grumpy griffin. "What have you been up to?"

They had met here for the first time, in the Thistle Meadow, though under much less ideal circumstances- with the Thief, then only a Phantom, bleeding from his neck and on the edge of delirium. He must have made for a horrific sight, but she had taken him in with the utmost compassion, unquestioning and selfless, without even knowing his name or his nature; and when she had, in a sudden misfortunate turn, stumbled into a rabbit hole, he had helped her as well.

Roland moved forwards into her embrace, the light brush of her cheek against his, and he turned his face into her touch with a fond smile. "It's good to see you," he said, hoping they would not stay apart for so long again. He had missed the comfort of a familiar friend, someone who had been with him almost since the beginning, who he knew he could trust without a second thought. There were very few who had earned that title from the Thief. Besides the white doe, only Lena and the silver boy, Caneo, held that reward of his faith. When so much had changed within the Basin, and with the chaos of past seasons still a fiery storm within his mind, it was good to see her face.

A shrill cry startled him from his thoughts, and he turned an alarmed gaze up to the skies as a small creature swooped down towards them. A quick glance in Arah's direction found the Impersonator unperturbed, and realization settled into his mind as the griffin landed lightly upon the mare's back. It peered at him with inquiring eyes, and he extended it an equal amount of curiousity. "Hello," he murmured with a dip of his head, and when he was no longer a source of interest and intrigue for the creature, she turned away from him to focus on more pressing matters, like napping beneath the sun. "Your companion?" He asked, turning back to Arah with a smile. Roland had often wondered what it might be like to share a bond with another, something that followed in your every step, always in your shadow. It seemed ideal, that one might never want for company again when a companion was always at your side, but the Thief had always suspected they would be something of a burden when he wished to be free, appreciating his solitude when he had it.

The mare's question drew his mind back to his recent journey in search of fire, still a haunting, bitter memory for him, something he felt could not be shared. It was a difficult subject to approach in the solace of his own mind, and even with Lena herself. He kept quiet on the matter, but couldn't help reflecting on all that had happened since he'd last seen the Impersonator. It was difficult to place when that had been, though the memory was vivid enough. He'd made something of a fool of himself, cowering under the harmless gaze of a serpent in the forest, but he'd been glad for her timely arrival to shake him out of it. They had not seen each other since, not even in the sanctuary, after the wraiths had attacked. He had glimpsed her at the herd meetings of course, always keeping a keen eye out for those he knew, even if they had never found the opportunity to speak. "I've just been sparring in the Basin," he answered at last, for there was too much to cover, to attempt to summarize, history too great a topic to broach. There was no time to converse about all that had happened since they'd spoken last, even if he might have wished to share those things with her. But the bruises on his skin were still fresh, still ached some from his walk through the mountain pass, and it was as good a beginning as any. "It's been a while since I've fought. I was trained to as a child, but I've had little use for the practice as of late. Most of my quarrels are settled with words," he chuckled, knowing she would understand exactly what he meant. There was a memory lingering in the back of his mind, something he'd meant to speak with her about eons ago, though in the end he'd never had the chance. "You have children now?"

(So sorry for the wait! <3)