The air snaps out at her flesh. Frigid teeth, seeking brutal entry into lungs, eyes, mouth and lips. The snow is crisp and cracks underneath her ashen hooves. Wings clutch close to the heroine’s sides. Milky neck feathers remain slick back, folded close to her long neck in her attempt to conserve heat. The forests offer no reprieve from the rogue winds that fell beyond the cliff edges.
 
A winter like this makes it difficult to fly. If the ground air is as cold as it is now, then up above, where the air is free to do as it wishes – the temperatures plummet even further. The youth breaches beyond the forest she had been walking through, just in time to see the sun sneak a glance at her. A moment for his kisses, before the clouds swell from either direction and swallows the skies whole. She hisses underneath her breath, whipping her tail in dismay.
 
She moves further out from the borders, in search of a midnight mare with frozen white locks – tainted with teal ends. Her scent is hard to find, because the cold air burns Ru’s nostrils when she inhales – and there are many, many other scents to filter through. But the dunskin persists on the ground. Her cool gaze sweeping the lands as she passed further within.
 
The Edge was not home yet. But after a time of exploring, she inevitably felt the old aches that had first brought her to the Edge’s doors. The concept of a ‘friend’ however, had not yet sunk in. Although it twisted about in her mind in a metaphysical sense – emotions and experiences that the girl couldn’t quite grasp into words yet. Could not assign herself to this idea of friendship, as if scared it would slip through her grasp like her mother had. Forever lost, meaningless in its new hopes and possibilities. So there it remained reserved and brewing, despite her search for the Moon Doctor Lyanna.
 
As her thoughts wandered without her, she entered another grove. The air became unnaturally quiet, just as the clouds poured out with fresh snow. Beyond the forest canopy it nearly blotted the distance, but from within the confines of the old trees the snow trickled in. Gentle, soft, divine in that intimate atmosphere devoid of another soul. It was beginning to make the mare uneasy. Her steps became careful, avoiding the rasping bark with a pointed path on wards. There were shadows in this wood that seemed to grow, reaching for the one who trespassed into parts unknown.
 
Indeed, the Edge was not yet home. Perhaps it would have to take some time, much more than the heroine had first anticipated.
 
Feeling as if the shadows had grown into one massive, prowling spirit – she feared to look back then. And stared onwards with a wavering confidence.
 
Right until the form of the greenhouse caught her gaze - transparent walls, lacking a roof to cover the earth, steered the shadows at her back away. Dissolved in the far reaching curiosity of the youth’s mind, alighting discovery with amusement and awe. Her quiet chirps followed her hurried trot. She settled right beside one of these walls, and pressed her dark maw against its surface with a hesitant laugh. Grinning at her faint reflection.

Beyond the light giggles that embrace her crackled voice, the dunskin mare quiets as she faces the reflection beyond her. The cool, frosted glass washes out the eyes that meet her, a ghost greets her from the other side – mother’s hollow eyes, her lost smile. And how quickly it fades as the mare realizes the smallest, briefest sense of her gaze from the other side. Grey lips that disappear from her fading, random spike for jest when there wasn’t quite anything else to do – ears, nearly folding back as she began to step away from the wall. Repulsed by the memory that lives in that reflection beyond her.

There is a familiar voice that stops her dissolving expression from forming any sharp lines, or hardened glares. Ru’s white neck feathers flare, as a softened, muted smile replaces the confusion, the sadness that nearly stains Ru’s face.

“Ah-ya-th – a!”

Ru forgets for a moment, that her lips are lazy and her tongue is paralyzed in certain configurations. Many, all of them, tasks lost to speaking. There were days she wishes she knew, and wondered why her creators had allowed her to live this way. Nonetheless the thought to still her eager voice slips her mind, and bashfully she presses her lips together in a hurried attempt to remind herself she shouldn’t.

Her attempt is ugly and disjointed, useless and childish – colts and fillies alike could pronunciate far better than she could ever imagine to. And somehow it made her less of a person, when the rest of the world could and she couldn’t. Ru swallowed the nonsense sounds, hoping that it would not happen for a second time today.

The girl appreciates the simple touch upon her neck. The warmth of Lyanna’s muzzle appears to elevate her mind, enough to ignore her imperfections for the time being. She coos a warm, and thankful greeting that rumbles out into the quiet air. Offering her muzzle to her neck in turn.

When she asks how she’s doing, an indifferent response permeates when she raises both wings and her shoulders in a shrug. Before rocking her head side to side, as if to say, ‘so-so.’ If she were honest with herself, she would admit that she was lonely here in this winter wonderland. That it was too cold for her liking, and she’d rather prefer a body to lean into – all snuggled with shared warmth. Alas her curious eyes moves back upon the structure when Lyanna motions to enter. The girl, giving a incredulous snort, warmer?

How could this glass box be any warmer? With an amused grin, and a raised brow, she follows with a light bark – a laugh, that had broken from the discord of the youth’s throat.

She enters, bobbing her head when she mentions spring. Chirping enthusiastically, - I can’t wait any longer! The winters were far too long in Helovia, her blood and heart cried out for Tallsun. Many months spanned between the two seasons however, but hopefully the heralding of spring – of the living and blooming, would hasten its return.

Ru goes about helping Lyanna clear the ground of the collected snow. Stopping only when the ground appears to be cleared enough, however, the cold appears to permeate from the walls. Even though the winds appear to be diverted from within. She trills with a shiver, ruffling, puffing her wings as if to say - it’s cold, and I can feel it! But she offers a more pleasant smile.

When there seems to be a pause, beyond the native plants of ferns and mosses, she tilts her head and coos out to Lyanna. Heightening her vocals as best as she could, to mirror a questioning tone, extending her wing to nudge Lyanna's side. She wanted to know how the Moon Doctor was doing. The youth’s eyes grazed curiously across Lyanna’s face.

Ru had had no part in the recent challenge, and yet it had gathered their kind and stirred uncomfortable truths about the fragmented status of the herd. At least from an outsider’s perspective, it was hard to make sense of the nefarious nature of the battle, the accusations that had stained the air and the cacophony of mummers. What was the wild child to make of herd politics?

That it mattered little, unless it threatened the cohesiveness of the lands. Because Ru could only see strength in unity at this point, and why else would they gather and form kingdoms? There were obvious benefits, and strangely enough, those benefits wavered as its members tested its foundations. What could the results possibly yield?

You do speak.

The mare finds this observation surprising. And though they continue on, it tumbles and rattles inside her head. It isn’t much of anything, the girl thinks. She can’t exactly say what she means, and the sound of her warped sound feels wrong.

I want to speak, she murmurs behind the drapes of her eyes, and the flesh of her head. She wants to share what has happened to her; hopes, dreams, but the thought is a frivolous thing. Despite it’s yearning, it ebbs and goes. As if she feared to try the impossible, only to find that it was useless to begin with.

When she has answered her friend, Ru agrees with her observation in a chirp. Exaggerating her nod, and gives a playful grin at the edges of her lips. Hard to navigate oneself in a herd of longtime lovers, friends, and alliances already made. Even as a warrior – as she proclaimed to be one; proved difficult for the lack of kin to fight by her side. And of the members of their sparse group, it seemed as though only one among them proved eager enough to keep them together – perhaps by only a thread.

She lets out a soft exhale, and off to work they went about. Dusting off the snow that would most likely fall once more before the seasons changed.

A giggle displaces her phantom thoughts, as the cold sends its shivers down her body. It’s small, and it’s unexpected – and despite the mentions of the Throat she keeps the soft smile placed against her face. The Throat was a whole bag of emotions the girl refused to tangle with. It was the beginning, and the end of a many things – there was no one she missed from that place, and no one she cared to visit. So it was to the Edge that she wondered, in a guarded sense, if more could grow from her arrival to Helovia.

And she glanced briefly now and then to her friend, hoping that this growing friendship would continue to hold – despite the vast nature of the Edge. And all the other duties one was sworn to. That at the end of the day, they could at least hold on to the things that mattered most. Lest they be swept away by the lesser things in life.

Whatever those might be.

Lyanna queries of the challenge however, and Ru nods with a chirp to confirm her witness. A topic that proved controversial, no doubt. Yet the girl had not a proper reflection of the matter. Merely interjections of herd dynamics, and loose thoughts that really had no basis for their presence.

She cooed out curiously. Ending their brief work with the snow, and ground, tilting her head and leaning her gaze in.

The initial silence lends to the slow rise of Ru’s neck feathers. Fluffing as she leaned back, and watched for any subtle hints or clues for the words that hide behind Lyanna’s lips. When they come, pointing to Toulouse’s unsavory methods – the girl frowns with a nod.

It surprises Ru that her friend feels responsible. That it had made sense to take on Toulouse’s actions when she couldn’t have possibly predicted them. An agent acting out on his or her own volition.

- I don’t know… The girl shakes her head with a disconcerting hum, low, trying to dissuade such thoughts. She resumes stillness as the voice travels on, taking pause, taking brief refuge before breaching their shared silence once more. A soft puff of air releases from Ru’s nostrils in the process, trying to ignore the frustration of having no words to communicate with.

The story, the experiences that live and thrive in the individual across from her shed more understanding. The sharpness in Ru’s eyes softens, both from internal thought and the imaginable heartache and struggle highlighted by the child’s trauma. Not that the child had meant much to Ru. She barely recognized the lack of either empathy or sympathy for the colt’s horror – strangely mute, and uncaring. Overlooking what she’d simply refused to consider, because the silence had taught her to move on – that such struggles could only make one stronger. The world did not protect her from its cruelties, nor shelter and sooth the aches from its wounds. Perhaps, because this wasn’t an act of nature, an act – that could have been prevented, that makes this predicament more severe.

It made Ru’s perception of the herd all the more fractured, and disconcerting. Without anyone to regulate what they stood for, or how to attain what is worthy of their people – how does one even attempt to grow honorable practices? Ru was momentarily struck with a sense of urgency that leapt from her chest; her feathered tail twitched slightly more, as her thoughts danced behind her eyes.

When Lyanna quiets and meets her with the well of emotions struck in her gaze, Ru hesitates. Uncertain, afraid to realize that her soul was corrupted with holes that would never leave, unfulfilled and susceptible to desire and carelessness – unruly and untaught by the lay of the land. Would Lyanna reject that?

Which only led to the reason why she had become the filly, the mare, the creature she was. Reminding the girl of the pain that once existed - like the pain and sorrow that exits in her friend's eyes now. Nearly choking out the sunlight from beyond the dark and gray skies – or the pleasures of a simple mind, which could only find her reprieve in the air.

She lets out a rattled coo. And for a moment she settles into old, familiar paths – extending her neck to offer a nuzzle against her friends neck. She offers a light chirp with the mentions of Birdsong. But the feelings that ebb from Lyanna's words appear to recall all sorts of things.

Of family, and the blurring memory of their faces and voices – scents long gone, to her thoughts and dreams. They are leaving her. Ru presses her forehead and the top of her cresting neck that attaches at the base of her head against Lyanna. Stepping away and nudging Lyanna's chin gently in a gesture of playfulness.

The time for tears has long since disappeared. And the mare assumes they can only hope, and push for change. Take the world by storm by shaping its structures; safeguard the future – if it’s possible. Idling simply won’t do anymore.

But her friend is faultless. Of that Ru is certain.

It’s odd to think her friend was once a princess – technically she still is. Royalty only existed in the tales told by the wise ones, or her mother. The brief memory flashes into view. She could never envision herself as one of cordial behavior, or taking time to mend relationships that had no purpose in her life. It’s hard to say whether that’s a product of Ru’s encounters with other equids, or her experiences of previous ‘herd life’; but it stands as it is. That she’s always wanted to be the one protecting, saving the ‘damsel in distress’. Having a reason to kick ass.

The thought adds a greater grin to her maw, invigorated by Lyanna’s laughs. And savors the silly idea, that she might as well be living out that once fantasy right at this moment. Because her friend was a princess after all, not that Ru saw her incapable of helping herself. On the contrary, Lyanna was perhaps more than capable, and smart and kind…

For once the warrior felt a tinge of responsibility that beamed noticeably against her soul. That she had one damn good reason to train, and work hard, and protect – because nothing could possibly replace this philia. Ru manages to giggle when she catches a change in those teal eyes; comfortable to share the gesture, even if it rattles and cracks out into the open.

A content hum replaces her earlier dissent. Ru bobs her head up, internally pleased to see that she was able to offer her friend some sort of reprieve. However small or strange it might seem. By a forgotten habit, her wings momentarily expand with her bob – and quickly clasp back to her sides as she shies away with a sober smile.

Ru listens with interest about the plants. She knew so little – really, and it was a wonder sometimes that she’d managed to live out in the wilds for so long without dying. Her gaze travels down to the uncovered, cold earth, imagining the ferns and other green things that would one day be cultivated here. Perhaps Ru wouldn’t mind nurturing the seeds, watch them grow - learn. That kind of life has the appeal of being useful. Furthermore, and more importantly, excuses spending the days in the company of friends.

When Lyanna’s voice trails off, Ru lifts her head and tilts it just so. Raising a brow as she mentions the other useful properties of ferns. It finally clicks when she follows the flick of her tail. A light giggle erupts from her lips, more like squeaks that push out succinctly from her mouth.

Mentions of future travels, and Lyanna’s offer push away Ru’s previous laughter. There isn’t a trace of annoyance that would have normally flared the girl’s feathers. Instead, her eyes almost appear to cloud over. Lips become taught and press against one another as she reiterated what was just offered.

Maybe? She wanted to say, in a hesitant voice – that was both hopeful and doubtful of the results at the same time. Or ‘Sure’. Simple, straight-forward, no questions asked or doubts uncovered.

YES!

Ru wanted to say, ‘YES’. But instead she began to bite the edge of her lip with her dull teeth, and cast her gaze out and beyond the glass that surrounded them. Through their faint reflections and the darkness of the forests surrounding them.

A moment passed, before she made a soft cooing noise. Quiet, as she made to nod. And shifted back to smile rather lopsidedly at Lyanna. However, unable to abate the tension she hid from her – wondering how long she could wait for their answers. If she could, and if any of them would reveal something worthwhile.

Perhaps she shouldn’t allow the uncertainty to press so severe. Rather hold on to her friend’s promise, because it is the first that reassures her of her existence. That reflects at least one tie that she can nurture and grow. And while the world wouldn’t be as lonely as it usually was, the girl was pressed to pause a moment as her friend spoke.

But I promise I will look in every corner of Helovia.

Ru’s lips soften from their previous, disjointed nature. Without realizing she offers another round of cracked and rusted giggles that bounce off the glass walls in brief discord.

With a far more confident gaze that arrests her eyes, she nods and chirps brightly into the silence that surrounds them. Thrusting her trust upon Lyanna without realizing she has. But can only be captured by the glowing gaze in the girl’s eyes, the steady smile and the elevated beat that rings in her ears.

Ru presses a friendly muzzle against her friend’s shoulder. In thanks perhaps – or relief; whichever it is, it releases from the mare’s breath in one brief and shaky exhale.

Solidifying the promise, and for all that it was worth.

And more.