A shadow flits over midnight skies, clear and starlit for the first time in weeks. No snow is falling, no winds are howling. It is calm, and quiet, and biting cold. The very water in the atmosphere seem about to freeze; glittering particles catch the faint light of the stars, not like the snow on the ground nor hail nor the frost that sparkle like rhinestones in her tousled mane, but something related, something not so far removed. It sear the inside of her nostrils with every inhale, sharp and chilled and invigorating. She can't recall having been this far north before, sailing high above the endless tundra where no life is stirring.

It is midnight. Any sensible creature would be burrowed down to sleep by now, safe and tucked away.

Well. She lost her sanity a long time ago. Staying still just didn't cut it anymore, there were too many demons coming for her throat for that. Better to keep moving, traveling, on her toes and wary of the darkness, the void, the emptiness of oblivion that called to her whenever she forgot that she wasn't supposed to listen.

Grief had a way of whittling down on your sanity, whether you told yourself that you were alright or not.

Suddenly the landscape below changed. Vast never ending plains of nothing rose into high, forbidding mountains, and within their cold embrace lay a valley, secret and ominous. Not because of any inherent spookiness, but because the mare realized where she had ended up. Unease dimmed the brightness of her gem-colored eyes as she gazed down through the darkness, scrutinizing the over-snowed vale for any sign of life.

Aurora Basin. Land of the unicorns, the Northern Realm, the forbidden venture. Once she had fought against the citizens of this place as they came to take over the herd she lived with. She still carried the horn she had stolen then, a proof of strength and a warning to any horned ones that might try to pick a fight with her again. While she did not hate this place, she was wary of it, distrusted the inhabitants, even feared them a little... It didn't even matter that the father of her son had been one of them. Carnesîr had been different, sweet, gentle; not at all like the snarling jackal of a bitch that had tried to take her life.

On raven wings the pegasus circled over the hidden valley for a while, grateful for her natural dark coloration that should keep her hidden from any prying eyes. She really ought to leave, it wasn't safe to linger, but... at the same time the mare was curious. What was it with these horses that frightened and fascinated her so? How could they survive this far north, beneath the oppressive hands of dark and cold?

Without thinking she allowed herself to descend, gradually losing altitude as the desire to know more won over self-preservation.

Just a look, quick as a bunny... what harm could it possibly do?



@[Ashamin]