Quick as the rising tide the crowd swelled, until what seemed to be half of Helovia's entire population stood gathered on the beach. Alright, so maybe she was exaggerating but there really was a whole lot of people milling about, and the sound of mumbled greetings, delightful exclamations at seeing long missed friends and shouted questions towards the ocean-born creature filled the air. The din was incredible; Erthë grimaced in discomfort and flattened her ears against the poll to block it out, the large wings ruffling and swelling as bodies pressed in against her from all sides.

The summoner however seemed very pleased indeed by the onslaught of horses. His - its? - smile broadened for every additional individual that joined, and when the stream faded to a trickle and he began to speak, it sounded to Erthë as though he was announcing some sort of festival or offering a real treat. Tone and intent aside, the young mare listened intently as questions were answered and intentions revealed. The creature, naming itself Kisamoa, called itself a relative of the gods - the very idea sent a shudder of mingled excitement and unease through the pallid girl - and mentioned lands to the south in need of aid. Frowning briefly Erthë recalled flying over the area on her way to the Veins, and remembered what Mauja had said about the place.

'Once called the Spectral Marshes, it was now deadened land...' or something along those lines, wasn't it? Somehow connected to the appearance of the terrible wraiths, a plague that had displaced all the herds from their lands and forced great change upon Helovia. Erthë now wished she had asked for more details on the matter when she had the chance - all she had to go on now was vague hints, her own guesses and the growing lump of discomfort in her guts that she couldn't find a reason for.  

"I hear that place was infected with a horrible plague. How do you intend to handle that kind of disease? I wouldn't want to see my home ravaged by wraiths, like what happened in the past, if it can be at all avoided."

Erthë gazed intently upon the patchwork being, listening carefully for every turn of word and phrase should he reply. She was glad to hear he wasn't an enemy but it didn't mean she was about to trust him explicitly either. Never before had she heard anything about the gods having relatives beyond their own children, never before had any such creature appeared before them. Was it cynical of her to be suspicious? Was this where she ought to place her faith in the good intentions of the gods and obey without question? If so then it was too bad. Erthë was too greedy for knowledge to refrain from asking, too jaded by what she'd seen in the past to jump into anything blindly. The Moon would hardly approve if she stopped thinking on her own or ceased acting according to her own nature and will.

"I would be glad to help with the restoration of the land, though I hope there won't be a need for combat..? My name is Erthë, of the World's Edge."