The shadow startled, turned, and then it spoke. Did shadows usually do that? Misty green eyes were wide and clogged with unshed tears and leaking black tar, but though her heart beat fit to burst in the chest she forced herself to look closer at the figure. Come to think of it, wasn't it actually more brown than black? And there were lighter patches, tinted with orange and black but probably white originally... A shadow with colors? Granted, she had seen many things that didn't make sense in her short life, but nothing as weird as this.

The shadow introduced itself as Naerys. Suddenly becoming aware of her own graceless sprawling on the stone floor, the winged filly quickly got to her feet and gazed hesitantly between the Naerys and the sloping path she had fallen down. Should she answer, or just run?

Ah, but. She hadn't faced two gods in combat and survived only to become a coward. Picking up the pieces of her own fractured courage she wound the long tail tightly around a leg and nodded shyly, daring a slight step forward to get a better look at the dark figure.

"Yeah.. I mean, uhm... yes, I'm fine. Thank you. I'm Erthë." Geez girl, eloquent much. At least she managed to say her own name without stuttering this time. Not much of a victory, but it would have to do.

"Wh-what is this place?" Not much better, but at least the awe as she looked around was real. The place was huge, the ceiling disappearing up amidst thick shadows and the corners dim and obscure as the passages that trailed off to elsewhere. It was easy to forget herself and the stranger that was with her, but all the thought of shadows brought her back to reality with a snap, a swift jump backwards and the fierce, suspicious glare of one who had seen too much for their age.

"Hey, you're not actually a shadow, are you? Because if you're one of them Wolf God clones then... then... well I've dealt with you lot before and I'm not scared!"

Yet for all the confidence in her childishly shrill voice, both dainty cloves and sneaky glances had begun a swift search for something to use as a weapon. It wasn't that she was afraid or anything, but no matter how she looked at it the Naerys was much bigger than herself, and her stubby porcelain horns were clearly not intended for offensive use. The black claw bounced and jangled on its bronze chain around her neck as though to tempt her to use it, but Erthë ignored it. No way would she use that; the fang had probably tasted too much blood already.

She steeled herself for the worst and drew a long, slow breath, careful so that she would not trigger another coughing fit. This was definitely neither the time nor place to show weakness...