so i listen to the    wind for an answer

She isn’t here enough anymore. The Edge keeps her busy (Gawen alone is something of a handful, though she loves the colt anyway). It still feels strange, when thought of her old home drift in. They come less frequently now, and they are often less sorrowful and simply more nostalgic now. Like remembering a particularly good dream. She misses her sister, and still hopes that the girl is okay. Whatever became of her, after they parted ways in the Threshold. She will always miss her parents and her brother, but she doesn’t wake up feeling like there were holes in her chest anymore.

Thoughts of Morham always bring her to the Threshold though, wanting to offer the Edge to those in need. The Edge had been everything Lyanna needed, even if she hadn’t known if at the time. And everyone deserves the chance to call it home as well, if that’s what they want. So today, she leaps off the cliff and takes to the sky, heading for the Threshold. It’s been too long, and she’s overdue.

It doesn’t take her long to fly the now familiar path, keeping an eye on the ground so she can keep herself oriented to the land below. She lands just outside the Threshold and the trees, though there are likely places inside the Threshold that are sparse enough she could land. Still, it’s easier to walk the rest of the way, tri-colored wings tucked to her side. She is nothing spectacular to look at here. Of average size and average build, black with a splash of white and teal. The only notable things about her are the ruby necklace, and the crescent moon shaped horn that both hang around her neck.

Not that she minds, really. Being plain was exactly what she needed. She wasn’t plain in Morham, and that fact would have cost her her life. Here, she could hide. Here, no one thought twice about the teal on her wings. There were far more brightly colored horses here. As evidenced by the purple unicorn.

She hears the mare first, soft footsteps and perhaps some rustling? Like someone is looking for something or, honestly, collecting herbs. It’s a sound she’s rather familiar with, after all. She following the sound, nickering in a pleasant greeting to announce herself and not startle the other. It’s not long before she catches purple through the trees though, a yellow mane and tail, and antlers atop the mare’s head. “Hello,” she says pleasantly, coming to a stop a polite distance away. “I’m Lyanna.”

lyanna