Flying was a beautiful pastime, but it wasn't long before I touched down at the Threshold. It was common traveling to the Threshold, as the Foothills were incredibly close by, which I loved. It was very convenient. While horses from the Dragon's Throat, or even the World's Edge, had to travel longer, I was already here. Of course, our proximity to the Threshold had its disadvantages as well- intruders ended up along our borders all the time, and Mauja with his herd of unicorns were close. Too close. I sighed, pushing away the thoughts. Being a leader was challenging, even with two others to help. I was only really in charge of the intelligence department, and those odd jobs, while Archibald was fighting, and Evers diplomat. I hadn't said so, but it seemed quite a bit better that the two of them had switched roles. Much better, in fact.

The snow was soft under my hooves as I landed, wings back-beating. Cool white mist evaporated from my nostrils as I snorted, landing onto all fours, black wings closing to line my silver flanks. Where were all the horses overrunning the Threshold? Yes, there was Evers over there with someone and a few others- he could hold himself and persuade anyone. I'm sure he would be fine. I moved through the thick pines and the bare oaks and aspens, a spectre in the morning. The only thing to catch my attention was red- a patch in the bare trees sticking their dead hands up from the snow-covered earth. "Greetings, wanderer! What brings you to this fine land?" I call, coming closer to stop five feet away, not wishing to intrude on this smaller's mare privacy. Alone, however. She was alone.

The red palomino raised her head, ears flicking forward attentively as I greeted her. Greetings to you as well, madam. I hope not to intrude upon these lands. My name is Romani. Adventurer. Name? A little warrior, she seems to be, holding herself very upright but not aggressively. "I'm Svetlana. Some call me Svetlana the Stormchaser. I'm leader of the Windtossed Foothills, along with Archibald and Evers. You are welcome to come to my herdlands to settle down, or at least have a place to call home should you ever wish to rest." I pause, inhaling a quick breath. "There are other herdlands I can help you find if you wish. There is the Dragon's Throat, home to pegasi down in the southern deserts, and there is the World's Edge, home to all three breeds like the Foothills." I hope she comes with us, this small compact horse. Romani. It fits her well, as most names tend to.

The with practiced ease, the palomino flipped her white forelock out of her eyes, keeping her gaze steady to mine. I would be happy to have Romani in my herd. "Just because you are one of the herd does not mean there is any need for you to stop wandering, Romani. Let's begin walking- it isn't too far to Foothills. Soon you'll be able to meet the horses yourself." I smile, turning to the west. Not too long ago, I would have trotted up to Romani to begin sparring, or breathe out into her nostrils, but those customs were frowned down upon in Helovia. Instead, I had to restrict myself to words. I didn't mind, not really, I just wish I could practice my old customs.

[sorry for extremely short post!]