The Sunspear would not have usually taken the road south on foot; she often felt she was a creature of the sky more than of the earth, but she had little choice in the depths of winter. This far north the open sky at her preferred altitude would have her frozen solid in an hour so it was the forrest paths of the Threshold that she traveled on now. Perhaps when she was a bit closer to the Throat she and her companion could take to the air again, but there were miles to go before that point.

She moved through the trees a steady pace, not exerting unnecessary energy, but still eager to reach her home as soon as possible. Held tightly to her sides, her wings acted as a bit of insulation and she took comfort in the ever-warm spot between her wings where the eagle Gwaihir nestled. It was he who first spotted the stallion, sharp eyes picking up his movement through the trees while Meg had only been focused on plowing the course strait ahead of her. “Stranger.” Gwaihir prodded through their bond, “Over there.” He used a gentle tap of a talon on her back to indicate direction and Meg turned her head to see. “Better say hello then, I suppose.” she replied, letting out a small chuckle. The eagle was not one would call sociable and she could almost feel him rolling his eyes at the back of her head.

A sharp angle in her path took her in the stranger’s direction and she picked up a trot in order to catch up with his long strides. The warrior in her was quick to size him up, noting size an build was second nature. He far outstripped her in terms of weight class, but confident as she saw in her ability to outrun, or at the very least, outfly him, the Sunspear approached him boldly, calling out in a jovial manner. “Hello there, you look new to these woods.” It was only a guess, but she knew the odds favored a new comer to Helovia when wandering this pass. She stopped at an easy distance and gave an amiable grin. From his perch on her shoulder, the eagle straightened up and gave his wings an irritated tussle before fixing his permanent golden glare on the stranger.

The strange replied quite formally, but that didn’t bother Meg. She might not be overflowing with manners but she appreciated them in strangers.  It was to his credit that she started off with a little joke  and she mirrored his laugh with a chuckle of her own. She well remembered how out o place she had been when Gaucho had found her here years ago. Even Gwaihir was thoroughly satisfied, in his own disdainful way, with the stranger’s nod and let his gaze drift. Noticing this little interaction, Meg chuckled. “You’ll have to forgive Gwaihir, he’s young and not well practiced in manners.”The stallion had started a short thread of familiar questions but before Megaera could reply the approach of another had her head turning.

The white mare approached confidently and the Sunspear noticed she had her own avian companion on her back as well. For a moment Megaera though she might have found two potential new recruits but the mare had the smell of Helovia and was quick to confirm that by injecting herself into the conversation. There was something about the mare Meg felt she should know so she kept a curious eye on her as she announced the land of Helovia to the newcomer. The mare, Elsa, continued on and the flicker of recognition cam to Meg. She might have seen this mare from far off but it was the name and the her that did it. Ampere had reported on the Edge’s appointments so Elsa was not just a warrior but the Edge’s commander under Torleik and Mauja. 

The Sunspear nodded at Elsa’s introduction before turning her head back to the stallion to offer her own name. “She’s quite right, this is Helovia. There are four claimed lands here, one in each direction and plenty of places in-between. My name is Megaera, Sultana of Dragon’s Throat in the south. The Edge,” (She motioned her muzzle toward Elsa) “is to the West. The Hidden Falls and Aurora Basin are both north of here.” She sent a grin at the stranger, “You’re also welcome in the Throat is you prefer a warmer climate.” All the while she was speaking to the two horses, Gwaihir had his own case to make. His golden gaze had been glued to the noisy antics of the zephyr. Though the white bird might have outranked in in both type and age, the young eagle already had the attitude of a crotchety old man. Outrages by the zephyrs ridiculous display, he clicked his beak angrily and then sat still, perched strait and tall, in order to demonstrate how to act with proper decorum.