As the sun began to set, colouring the wintery landscape with warm hues, a thick-haired grey wolf padded quietly through the forest. Like a drifting spirit, he wandered in and out of the trees, travelling swiftly, lightly, leaving only his paw prints in the snow behind. The wind had dropped to a murmur, a brief calmness between blizzards, and the wolf was taking his chance to lead his pack of two into a familiar land before the weather rolled in again.
 
A few minutes behind followed Ghost, not a real one, a fake one, a cadaver returning to her place of birth. A hybrid of species she was tall and skinny, dark in colour except for her ostentatious wings that blared violently red and white, destroying her wish to be a literal shadow. The snow crunched beneath her cloven hooves, she wasn’t nearly as quiet as her nimble companion, no matter how much she tried, it had taken six years of her distressing life to realise there were some things, things she desired to be, that were best forgotten. Ghost did not travel with ease either, nor with lightness, if it wasn’t the weight of her thoughts dragging her down it was the heaviness of her compass. The old and scratched trinket had been tied to her for some time now, she had gotten used to carrying it, but it still didn’t change the fact it was disgustingly heavy for a little thing. Yet, it was ever so handy once you accessed its secrets.
 
Scents, oh so familiar, bombarded her on her entrance into Helovia, a place Ghost had never left before, until a few seasons ago. She followed Fantôme, the wolf, as he led her further into the claiming arena where Helovians often came to do battle with their alluring words, looking for converts to their causes. The Cadaverous presumed it to be the same, even though she had been gone, why would it change? Truthfully, she didn’t know why she was here, other than it was home in the end, and she didn’t think she needed a better reason than that. Even more so, what was she going to do now she had returned? For her entire life, Ghost had been the thief who loved the shadows, never to speak much, but always watching. Her bitterness towards her mother had driven her in search of power she did not deserve, even the Necromancer had trusted her with leadership, and Ghost had spectacularly failed in that role. Life then pushed her southwards, into the desert lands, where again she became a spy only to leave the role as her mind grew weary of its thoughts.
 
Now? Now she had gotten to the point where she cared less, she didn't know what she wanted, it was nice for a change to just be Ghost. Without the weight of the anger she felt towards her dam bearing down on her and with hindsight serving as her wisdom, Ghost embraced a new kind of ease on her return.
 
She found Fantôme in a snow laden grove and proceeded to join him there, her thoughtful grey eyes cast skywards, watching as the clouds began to roll in.

At the sound of the girls humming Ghost shifted her gaze to better view her first greeter, a rosy pale thing with a hellion by her side, she smiled—she hadn’t seen many hell dogs in her time. Even as the blood dripped down its lips she found it intriguing, apparently her uncle had one, but she had never come across d’Artagnan and the dog, beautiful as it was, was always going to be second to the friend who hovered next to her. Fantôme’s piercing yellow gaze stared hungrily at the hound’s dinner, wondering if she would share, as a low growl rumbled under his breath. Frowning at him, Ghost shook her head before considering the girl before her, a small smile accompanying her prying eyes as she cut straight to the question “you” she answered. Ghost didn't know why she was in Helovia in particular, other than it was home, but the immediate question as to why she was in the Threshold was simply in search of those who came by looking for recruits. She had been away a while and those who sought the new blood for their herds might also give her a sense of what her homeland was up to now. 

Hotaru, Lady of the Basin. Ah, so this was the northern leader? Ghost had had past dealings with many herds apart from Aurora Basin, by personal choice, she had always presumed that's where her mother lived. That evil wench's whole purpose in life was to kill her Uncle after all. Of course, that wasn't the case anymore and the Basin had simply become another herd to the Cadaverous. She dipped her head slightly in acknowledgement, how honoured she was that a Lady had deigned to descend from her high tower and greet her in this plain forest "I'm Ghost" she offered in introduction. It was simple, now she did not belong anywhere, no title to tack on the end, though her legend always lingered with her if she wanted it to or not.  

Though the Cadaverous didn't get chance to elaborate more as they were joined by another and this one Ghost truly recognised. It was a vague and distant memory, but there all the same and the banshee wondered if Syrena remembered the dark mare who had once led the Hidden Falls, the same mare who had greeted her that day by the waterfall and the very mare who had lost the Falls under Archibald's cruel hooves. Sometimes Ghost thought back to that battle and cringed, wondering how on earth the Dauntless hadn't killed her, she deserved to be killed back then, for her ignorance alone. Yet, she had survived to be here now, being faintly recognised by old herd mates—that was her legacy. 

"I imagine you might" she replied to Syrena dryly with a half-smile, even if she wasn't worth remembering "I was a Czarina once" she didn't really know how to explain more than that. It was soul destroying to remember her own incompetence, but maybe the greater forces above thought she needed the character building. Yet, now the onus was on her to guide the conversation, but there were things she wanted to know first "how is the Hidden Falls?" she asked. Ghost often wondered what had happened to it since her leaving.

"and the Basin?" how ironic, to be met by her old herd mate as well as an old invader. Did Hotaru really not know her? Was she not there in the invasion? Ghost couldn't remember, she only remembered Archibald from that day, there wasn't much time for her to take in anyone else. "It has been a while since I returned here" she mulled thoughtfully, looking around at the snowy landscape. 

Ghost had found, during her seasons away in self-reflection and aimless travels, that she had an increasingly corrosive nature the more she aged, her cynicism increased and she twisted herself, scornful and cold, closer to the sarcastic side of her damned family. Maybe this was her true destiny; to be a cantankerous witch that only got worse with each passing year. “Me? My, how forward” yes, she thought curling her lips to the satyric mare—you. Though Ghost had to disagree partly with Hotaru, she had no idea what she sought, but that was by-the-by, where she would best be of use was the place Ghost would go. It was then that the ashes of her legend was stirred from the abyss and she stifles a sigh, of course, that cumbersome title still lingered here. At least outside of this world she had simply been Ghost, that part she would miss. Always these folk were intent on using it as an address, as if she looked like a walking corpse, she certainly felt like one. Perhaps it fit her after all. She shrugged her irritation of it aside, it was bitter nonsense on her part and she would not be ruled by the fool in her anger. 

The banshee, however, couldn't stop the wistful look that melted onto her face when this blushed Lady of the Basin so softly hummed of the battle they never clashed in. "I would have preferred to have met you" she replied quite regretfully, still feeling the pound of that over-grown clod's hooves as they had slammed into her, she went down gloriously—but defeats were defeats no matter how glorious they were. Maybe Hotaru might think her too forward again, perhaps she was some kind of battle veteran, Ghost didn't know, but on the cover of it the thief would have chosen this Lady over the Dauntless.

When Ghost regarded Syrena again she couldn't help but think I knew a mare like you once. In fact, this elder reminded her of the way she had once been, vague and emotionless. She had followed Seele around like a second shadow and not really cared for the world around her, she did as she was commanded until that faith was rewarded when Midas had invited her forward to stand as his equal. Everything from then onwards changed her forever and still, sometimes, she missed that stubborn girl who lived to be unseen and unheard, quietly doing the Necromancer's bidding. She wondered what had happened to Archibald and the rest of his invading force.

One says much and the other little, from what the thief can gather Helovia must be in one of its peaceful moments, she didn't know the names of the two Falls rulers though she recognised Deimos, not entirely surprised that the Reaper still weathered his Lordship in the north. She found both mares to be enticing in their own ways, neither were open books, but there was enough that Ghost settled into their company with relative ease and curiousity. The deciding factor would be fuelled by her past, did she return to her former home that she had been ousted from or did she travel to the now all-species accepting Basin, whose founders had outcast her too for the feathers that grew from her sides. In the end, Ghost didn't feel like she could yet return to the Hidden Falls, she had been defeated spectacularly there after all and returning almost felt like a betrayal of kind, even though it was now long in the past. The place was a constant reminder of all her weaknesses and Ghost doubted she would be able to perform under the self-loathing it inspired in her. She remembered Elsa and Essetia, they had left as she had, it wouldn't be like the home she knew, there was no Seele or Midas. 

She shifted the weight of her compass before speaking "I will go where I feel I will best be of use" she declared solemnly, offering Syrena a wry smile "it would be nice to return to the Falls again, but my conscience still bothers me" she admitted truthfully. All in all the banshee wasn't entirely certain how to put her thoughts into words so she left it at that, wondering if the rather quiet mare would somehow understand her silence, it didn't matter if not. Ghost wasn't about to lay her shattered heart bare for the sake of courtesy, but she nodded once in thanks to Syrena.

Lastly, gazing thoughtfully, if not a little hopefully at Hotaru, still cautious of the girl and her sly expressions, she made up her mind "I know the mountains well, but not the way into the Basin" she revealed, despite having family who lived there, Ghost had never ventured to the northern most herd. The furthest she'd been was the Steppe, where she had met Prometheus and his tiger, that same day she had also wanted him to rip her wings off in hopes of re-joining the then exclusively unicorn herd, that had been defeated in the Edge and exiled to the snowy mountains of Time. Apparently, now, it was different.

"Perhaps you might let me serve you" she offered, of course, of the list of ranks open, Ghost already knew that theft was the one, if this Lady would see her as a possible selfish gain.

As the banshee spoke, Fantôme greedily accepted the hound's generous offer to share her food, wolfing down the hare in hungry bites of flesh, grunting his thanks to the hellion who had gone up grandly in his regard, perhaps he could stomach her company.