Iona had yet to return to this place since coming through Threshold herself. She had made the journey from the Threshold to the Edge on foot, and had made a note to make a return trip from above.  The painted Pegasus had an almost compulsive need to know every single inch of this place, so today she found herself in the air - retracing her steps.  It was a habit, perhaps, but a habit that served her well.  Iona wasn’t one to be caught unaware.  Certainly not now – not after her experience.
 
The pegasi, too, had a rough appearance from the outside.  Unlike Lithium, Iona’s battle-scars had left their mark.  She had ugly scars down the right side of her right neck and around both of her wing joints from when they had been broken.  The scars didn’t bother her and she did very little to hide them, but she imagined they could be intimidating to those who didn’t know the story behind them - a story that she rarely shared with those outside a very small personal circle. 
 
As she grew nearer to the Threshold, Iona shifted course and descended, figuring that she may as well peruse the individuals lingering in the forest before she made her way back home.  She wasn’t one hell-bent on recruiting, but she was determined to be helpful.  She found a break in the trees and angled herself carefully shifting between branches and gracefully making her way to the ground, landing quietly and quickly folding her great wings tightly against her sides.
 
Her green eyes flicked quickly between gatherings of equines of all shapes and sizes, not lingering on any one group for very long.  It seemed like each herd had a well-rehearsed sales pitch for each newcomer.  Iona was lucky in the sense she entered the Threshold with a narrow-minded goal of simply finding her twin sister and had avoided that particular aspect of this place.
 
However one did catch her eye – a solitary stallion, standing about her height -  before she decided to call it a day and head back home to Aly and Naerys, she decided to see what he was about. The mare let her vivid green eyes linger over the younger stallion, taking in the cuts and bruises that littered his frame. If she had an eyebrow, she would have raised one.  “Did someone chase you here?” she asked, with a wry smile.  She didn’t mean to be rude.  That was just…Iona.  How typical she’d use something that could potentially be insulting as an icebreaker.  There wasn’t much in the way of a filter when it came to the black and white mare.  She’d seen too much in her time to be polite all the time.  However, by the looks of him, he could handle it - or at least that's what she hoped.  “I’m Iona – of the Edge.  Welcome to Helovia.  What’s your name?”

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