Perhaps she shouldn't be surprised to find herself faced with the pale, elegant form of Ophelia as she turned, but the filly had to admit that she was none the less. So much had happened since the Amaranthine placed her offer to aid the limping foal, so many seasons had run by since they were side-tracked, separated and disturbed. While not exactly positive that the promise would be kept, Erthë had felt no reason to doubt that she would receive the needed aid sooner or later.

"Thank you, miss" she replied while inclining her neck in greeting, the initial surprise melting into a look of happy recognition as she turned once again, completing the silly little circle so that she would face the shrines properly.

Sooner was decidedly better than later, of course. For reasons unknown to her - though she had her theories, they were no more than just that - the broken, poorly set leg refused to heal properly even with the passage of time, and the pain was not something she could take lightly. A restless nature and rudimentary knowledge of certain plants had steered her onto a dangerous path, one she struggled with on a daily basis. If nothing else, Erthë hoped that the pain at least would disappear - it would be easier to cut the habit if she was able to suffer through a day without feeling the constant stabbing, gnawing ache pound through her leg.

As Ophelia addressed the shrines - and hopefully caught the attention of the Powers they represented - the winged filly too turned her thoughts to the Gods. While not personally inclined towards the flaming Sun Lord after the fiasco with the Crocodile god and her mother's subsequent death, she did not object against the older mare's choice of patron. Saying that she would prefer an audience with the Lady Moon would be outright rude, and implying that the Earth Father owed her anything for not mending the injury directly when it happened was pushing it, no matter how you looked at it. So Erthë bowed her head against the winds of the storm and tried to formulate some happy, or at least moderately positive thoughts towards the brightly shining God, pouring all her deeply felt sincerity towards a single goal.

"Please, at least reveal how the injury might be mended. I don't mind doing it myself if you are busy, I don't want to be a bother or take up your time so if You could just whisper or point me - us - in the right direction I will definitely like you a bit more, and if the leg is fixed I promise I will find something prettier than flowers for the next time I visit."  

And then she waited, nerves tingling with hope and dread and a feeling that things were moving out of her control. A stray thought went to Tembovu, who had accompanied them on the first, initial journey. It felt a bit wrong to not have him here now, as though they were acting behind his back... Erthë made a note to tell him all about this visit next time she got a chance.

If something happened that was worth talking about, that is. How long was it okay to wait for a reply? What if none came?

Would she end up spending the remainder of her life on this rock, awaiting the words of a god that may never show up?

Erthë

and my knees are shaking - - and my dreams are breaking - - but i know i live today