Erthë sighed. Again. Somehow it felt like it had been the only thing she did for the past week, all throughout the horrible stretch of time she had to spend with the stallion she had accidentally ended up recruiting.

She had meant it when she said it wasn't her intention to bring him home. She had spotted him from above in the threshold forest and acted merely on curiosity, a desire to find out who it was and where they were headed. But one thing had led to another, which led to her family being insulted and an international war nearly taking place then and there between representatives from every frigging heard in Helovia, and somehow her tongue had brought her from a cheery 'hello' to 'I dare you to apologize and follow me home'. It was confusing, a bit humiliating and not at all fun - so Lendri would just have to put up with her sighs.

"Well, here we are" she said as they, on a cloudy, miserable, drippy wet day finally approached the looming dark wall that was the outskirts of the World's Edge. "Home sweet home. My home, at least. Don't be so sure they'll let you stay though, I'm technically not allowed to bring people home like this... Not old enough."

She muttered the last bit under breath, insulted just like every adolescent throughout time that the grown ups couldn't realize that she wasn't a kid anymore, that she understood all the important matters and they just refused to comprehend her mental maturity. So what that she was shorter than pretty much everyone else - did that make her less intelligent than the heavy, bulky, oversized stallions that stomped around in her forest?

Erthë shot the mousy-colored stallion a wry look, far from pleased that she had upped every other herd in Helovia by snatching this specimen from under their noses (okay so maybe she was a bit proud, but hell if she would let anyone know it). She hadn't forgotten his slight on her father, because while Lendri had apologized his words still hurt. It wasn't Vadim's fault that his daughter had a penchant for straying from his side. She loved him more than anything else in this world but she'd go crazy if she had to endure his protectiveness every hour of the day. Ever since her mother died he had been coddling her, treating her like something fragile he had to wrap in cotton and guard over. It was sweet, of course it was, and she cared about him too but please. And it most definitely wasn't anybody's business how their broken little family functioned - especially not this doe eyed stranger who apparently had enough on his own plate without sticking his nose into her life.

No, she was not about to forgive him that easily. Erthë wouldn't weep if he ended up denied refuge in the mist-veiled forest, but she had a nagging suspicion that the king would do no such thing. He was kind and generous, Tembovu, prepared to see the best in everyone...

Erthë sighed, again, and led the way in past the remnants of the crumbling glass wall, into the mist that stole her calling voice and carried it off, telling everyone that yet another soul had come to plead for entry.

Absently she wondered how many horses could even fit in this place, before someone accidentally shoved another off the cliff. Too many big butts, that was the problem.

Erthë

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