“It’s good to meet you. I’m glad you’ve fared well on your journey,” honesty is the only thing that pours from the little mare’s lips, because she’s certainly seen those in quite a state in the Threshold. She herself had been panicked and half dead when she’d collapsed upon the borders.  Though Najya was certainly concerned that the mare - Mihtal - was showing visible signs of exhaustion though she did her best to keep them concealed.  Najya did find it curious that the mare seemed almost, well, uncomfortable in giving her name - the words came almost too quickly.  However Najya simply wrote it off as anxiety given the current situation, for she did not know the meaning behind the name.  She was far more concerned when the newly arrived mare nearly fell to the ground, but pressed forward as if nothing had happened at all.  Najya admired that, though it sparked her concern as well.  Normally she’d send A’mal to fetch something for the girl to eat, but she was still hesitant to call the dragon to the gathering. “If you’re thirsty, there’s a creek just over the rise,” she gestured back over her shoulder, “There should be something to eat along the banks as well.” Again, Najya left the decisions under Mihtal’s control.  She knew better than to order about a stranger.

The girl’s comment on the cold does bring a small smile to the little mare’s face. “I wasn’t either when I first came to this place, and to be perfectly honest - I still have little tolerance for the cold,” Najya offered, lightheartedly.  She’d been born and raised in a desert and her only experience with the changing of temperatures had been when the unrelenting heat gave way to bitter cold when the sun slipped beneath the sands.  But she’d certainly never had to deal with anything such as snow or lingering cold until coming to Helovia. But even now, Frostfall was difficult to deal with in the northern lands of Helovia.

“I’m from the Dragon’s Throat, the southernmost herd land of Helovia.  There are three others, one far in the north, one on the far western coast among the cliffs, and one hidden away not far from here.  You’d be welcome to stay in the Throat, if you wished, even if just to get your bearings.  The Desert offered me sanctuary when I most needed it, I can certainly offer that to you.  And if you decide, in time, to stay you’d be more than welcome. Our Sultana, Aithniel, would be happy to have you amongst the herd.”  Najya’s offer was not pressing, for she wanted Mihtal to know that she had the option to say no. She also looked over at the violet-eyed stallion, assuming that he had a similar offer if he was from one of the other herd lands she’d mentioned.  The little physician remembered how much pressure she had felt in the moment - trying to decide who to follow where, and then ending up fleeing from that place anyway when the herd she had chosen on the premise of peace had immediately turned and invaded another.

She’d certainly had a rocky start upon arriving to this place, fleeing and running and not finding a place to truly heal until she’d found the Throat.  That’s why she’d taken up the mantle of healer now.  To somehow attempt to return the favor.