i am a leaf on the wind

She finds the Threshold almost comforting. There are other forests in Helovia to wander, certainly, but this one had been the first. It was not quite like her old forest, back in Morham. That one had been a bit sparse, sunlight streaming in through the gaps between the trees. Here, the trees grew a bit denser, though not terribly so. Certainly, both were unlike his forest home (not that she knows this). But still, while all the forests may differ from one another, weaving through the trees always brings about a nice, steady calm for the tri-colored mare. For brief moments, she can almost pretend her life hadn’t been torn to shreds. Almost.

She was starting to settle into Helovia, and she found herself coming to the Threshold quite often. Why exactly? It’s hard to say. She hasn’t really been here long enough to be recruiting, probably. She knows so little still. But at the same time, she remembers that feeling. Remembers coming here and though, for the first time in so long, she had finally been safe, she’d still be unsettled. Starting over was hard. And if she can offer some help in that regard, she wants to. It can only be that desire that brings her here time and again. Because surely, there are other better suited to represent the Edge.
 
Well, perhaps not. Perhaps she was suited to the task. The Edge had given her a place to stay, a reason to believe her entire life might not be lost. It had given her hope when she had no reason to have any. She could represent that quite well.
 
It is cool today, though not bitter. She keeps her wings to her side though as she wanders through the trees, never sure who she might find, but always sure she’ll find someone. Her wings are a nice buffer from the bits of wind that creep through the trees. It isn’t long before she spots him, a flash of yellow in an otherwise brown and dead world. Truthfully, how could she miss him? Even through the evergreen trees, still alive and green and full. He’s quite, well, sunny.
 
She nickers, announcing her presence, turning her course slightly to approach him. “Hello,” she calls through the trees, closing the space between them more. He comes into full view then, mostly yellow with black tiger-like markings. She’s seen quite the collection of horses in Helovia, but still, she always finds herself impressed. And always remembers that she is very plain here (a good thing, when the very reason she’d gone into hiding was the teal on her wings and in her hair). “I’m Lyanna. Care for some company?” 

watch how i soar.

lyanna

And it is here she travels, three steps from home. It is the land of lost, of wanderers and burdens pushed away by their societies. She enters here on occasion in a desperate need for brethren, craving the growth of her father's empire, needing loyal followers for her father's cause. And never does she find them, never does the see the untainted form of a brother or sister, always the mongrels, the sick and diseased who think that they are superior, that they are better. But it is not so, they are not the original. 

It is the equines, the barren children of the earth who came before the wings and the horns that tainted their blood. And those descendants she sought, the ones without impure proportions, those with a loyal heart and noble air. So she wandered, sneering at the fools who so heroically bring themselves forth to the unwanted, offering homes with mixed and mingled species, where you defend the pagasi and seek shelter with unicorns. Colt wrinkles her nose at the idea of ever sharing a home with something so gruesome, recalling with a sour expression her time in the Foothills, where she mingled with the diseases alike, called them her herdmates. But no more, that was a life she could not accept now, not with heirs who needed her devout attention. 

It is oh so fortunate for the Gunslinger that a lone golden brute has wandered into Helovia, and unbeknownst to him she is there, waiting. Steel sights are set only on him, unwavering in their cause to seek out the onyx marked stallion. Colt hums her approval as she gets closer, ignoring entirely the black pegasus that sought this stallion's company. She wanted to spit snide remarks, to tell her to scram because their talk was not for parasites. 

"Hello," she repeats the feathered woman's words, steel eyes working over the black and gold figure that she so courageously approached. She had a proposition for him, a call to arms against the species that try to oppress them, the lesser. "Mind me joining you two?" Her eyes flick over the mare, looking down (up) at her with distaste, showing no sign of her internal hatred for the mare with blue-tipped wings. "Did you travel far?" Colt's eyes drift over the bulky brute, flicking forward her ears and offering the closest to genuine smile she can as she addressed him. 
"TALK TALK TALK"