Her bones ached with winter, a vile screeching sensation as they brushed by one another with each petty little movement. What was it that she was hoping for, to leave the comfort of the Edge with the razer sharp chilled wind that graced her presence as she descended from the cliffs? She only knew one answer, and part of her began to wish that perhaps she could stumble upon her Lucifer once more. It had been awhile since she had seen him. It had been awhile since she experienced the odd comfort that he had given her as he called her his little demon. And yet, despite her tortures in her past with true demons, she tried as hard as she could to not succumb to the ebony stallion – and yet, fell either way.

The ivory mare was rather short, but a strong stature with old muscles hanging from old bones. Her gaze was glassy, scarred over from her past life. Two horns sat upon her brow, one broken nearly in half. A memento that she carried within her tail to never forget the loss of her sister. But perhaps the most iconic of her scars, were the deep wounds that were always painted red, that lined each corner of her lips in an unfortunately gruesome smile. Her pelt was worn, white with the beginning of a gray hued bruise that stained her hind quarter. And who could forget the blood that stained her feathers, lining each of her slate hooves. She carried herself prouder now than before, perhaps almost pleased with how the strange turn of events had changed her. From the sad little being she had become in her old age (wishing to end her life on the cliffs of the ironically named ‘Heavenly’ cliffs) to a prideful being, given such confidence from the most unlikeliest of culprits.

Glasgow huffed a sigh into the air, a puff of vapor escaping her lips from the icy chill of Frostfall, before her ivory ears danced to a voice that illuminated over the confined air. “Hello? Is anyone out there?” The sound peaked her interest, and she felt herself carrying her weight with scarlet stained ivory legs, over the blanket of snow to where the sound had come from. Breaking the tree line, she spotted a mare a bit taller than she with lean muscles and a beautiful dished face. Perhaps Glasgow felt a bit of envy to her, to see that she carried no scars like she did (but she had to remind herself that she needed to wear the scars with pride instead of fear) and instead admired the mare’s wings and seemingly almost opposite appearance. Despite their similarities in coat color, her eyes were a stark opposite to Glasgow’s glassy orbs. But nevertheless, the mare had seen worse and dipped her crowned head to the creature, settling herself among the edge of the tree line for mere comfort. “I am here.” She admitted, forcing a smile to the mare that felt very awkward as the scars moved and bumped against one another. A price to pay.

“I am Glasgow of the World’s Edge, and you have found yourself in Helovia. Welcome.” Her voice was strong, but seemingly professional. Her days as a diplomat served her well in this manner, greeting strangers. However, she waited for the mare’s response before thinking of how to continue – flicking her ashen tail against her blood stained hooves, glassy eyes watching the feathered creature before her.

"Talk."

— but melt your headaches,

call it home.

Glasgow no longer carried her demons within her. Instead they simply just became a memory. Her scars were enough of a souvenir from her time spent under their control. While it was draining, they had still spared her. Spared her for a life where she had imagined to just grow old and die, a brittle twig against the winds of change. Things were different now. Never in a million years would she have imagined seeing such a different side of herself. One that could possibly put all those years of hiding her scarred face from foals as she passed through their lands, behind her. However, the Pegasus began to speak and Glasgow perked her ivory ears to her, listening to her words in a calm and quiet demeanor. She nodded momentarily to the questions before shifting, pulling herself further into the clearing – figuring that the mare didn’t seem to mind her appearance all too much, which was a relief at least. Yet as the winged mare continued, she spoke of falling into the land. A smile grew upon Glasgow’s face, twisting her scars with a strange feeling that she was still trying to get used to.

“Ah, yes. It’s an interesting passage, that’s for sure. Though as you can see, I can’t fly so I just simply stumbled in. I’m not from here either, but I arrived here.” She flicked an ashen tail against her scarlet dipped feathered feet again before turning her head away slightly, letting her glassy eyes take in the mare with her golden markings and slate colored pelt. “If you seek a home or a refuge, I can offer my home to you?” She questioned briefly, situating her head again. Her dual horns glinting in the light. The jagged pieces of the broken one shining a bit more. “It’s a beautiful place. Nestled up against the cliffs with a beautiful view of the ocean beneath.” She remarked, remembering the place as she had left it from the herd meeting. Her gaze dancing away from the mare in thought before returning to her. Her smile fading as the uncomfortableness began to set in from the strange smile.

"Talk."

— but melt your headaches,

call it home.

It was surely a sight. The two of them speaking among the dying trees of Frostfall. Glasgow’s smile began to falter as it usually did, due to the strange feeling of truly smiling with her scars. She was learning to smile more, to be happier, but it was an ongoing process and never proved to last very long despite her efforts. Instead, she turned her glassy eyes to the newcomer, curious of what her answer might be. Taking note of her exotic facial markings with the almost pearl coloring of her pelt. She carried ashen points and it reminded her of herself after her own tainting. Nevertheless, perhaps she was born that way instead of molded into becoming what was seen at face value.

However, the smile from Lilith was enough to grow another smile upon Glasgow’s face, creasing the scars that bore the bright scarlet red. “I don’t see why not. There’s a variety of people there from all places. Ones born within this land and those who travelled far to seek refuge.” She nodded, her horns glinting with the light as she bobbed her head agreeing with her words as if it were what she sought upon entering the Threshold. She turned from the mare, then, her ashen hind leg dark against the ivory pelt she had everywhere else aside from where the blood had stained. Turning her head back to Lilith she smiled once more, glassy eyes seeking Lilith’s eyes. “It’s rather chilly here, I’ll happily take you to my home if you would like to see for yourself?” She questioned, gray tail swishing with the words.

"Talk."

— but melt your headaches,

call it home.