It was a land of extremes. The conclusion had been made after wandering for days without seeing a horse, only endless rows of tree upon leafless tree, only to suddenly find herself on a vast meadow that stretched from horizon to horizon. It was all so very foreign from everything she knew, everything she loved and cared about. The cold climate, the leafless trees, the water that burned her tongue with its lethal cold. The chestnut girl had tried to wade across the river before, and nearly drowned as a result. Chill had squeezed the air out of the lungs, paralyzed her legs and numbed the skin until she didn't know whether she was alive or whether the body had died without sending the soul as much as a memo to inform of the chance. Somehow she had managed up on the bank once more, shivering and drenched, only to live through the most horrible night she had ever experienced.

Not, that wasn't true. She had lived through worse things than teeth-clattering cold and the sound of hungry animals howling in the distance. She had seen the death of her parents, endured many months of abuse and watched her brother get dragged away from her, never to return. Few things could be worse than that, and it was the thought that kept her going.
She did have to pay for her ignorance, however. A cold had been plaguing her for days, wracking the already weakened body with painful coughs and a running nose. Every muscle and joint in the body ached, the skin so sensitive that even the touch of air hurt. Yet she didn't allow herself to stop. Where were she to rest, anyway? Sleeping in the cold snow was dangerous and unpleasant, and nowhere had she come across settlements. Was this a deserted land, despite the deep forests and the vast plains, that surely had to be rich and fertile during summer?

A single maroon eye gazed along the horizon, watching the surroundings with dull interest. Snow, grass peeking through, more snow. The odd tree breaking the line of rolling plain against sky, only adding to her steadily growing agoraphobia. So much space! The world was so large, too large for such a small mare, just barely old enough to call herself a woman.
In the distance two figures moved, their paths different but soon to be clashing. Squinting, she tried to determine what they were; deers, elks, but it was hard to tell. Lacking a goal or purpose she felt herself drawn toward them, if only to be able to confirm what they actually were. The loneliness surrounding the slender frame was immense, it haunted her soul and called forth memories from within, memories that caused pain because of the knowledge that they were something of the past, never to be experienced again.

Never. It was a word that frightened her with its definite implication.

As she slowly came closer, the blurriness of the creatures receded. A wave of fear mixed with relief washed over her as she realized that they were horses, not deer. The girl stopped, hooves heavy as lead. Hesitated. Were they going to prove violent and dangerous like the ones who had come to her rescue before, so easily unleashing lethal Art and flared their hooves and teeth with killing intent? Were they indeed malformed, warped into something different like the stallion she had encountered in the depths of the forest, sporting bird wings on their backs... or were they to be hated, loathed and avoided out of fear, carrying horns on the head and blood-thirst in the white of their eyes?

All options were bad but solitude was worse, and it pushed her forward, forced the girl to take a step, then another. Slowly, very carefully she approached, regarding what was revealed to be two mares as they met and spoke with a wariness of something injured, hunted and frightened. Ears stroke back, and with a sniffle Rilo prepared herself to run in case any of the others showed even the slightest hint of annoyance.

"... excuse me. Where am I? This place, this area..." Coughs interrupted her attempt to speak, the quiet voice silenced as she struggled to breathe.

Might as well be unicorns. At least they wouldn't hesitate to kill her, ridding her of this never ending cold.

As the cough slowly faded and air once more was permitted into her lungs, the girl was able to hear the reply that immediately was offered to her. A look of disbelief passed over the delicate face, scarred and with the left eye blinded and dead. "There are herds living here?" she exclaimed, the tone clearly stating that she never would have thought that the land was actually inhabited. Sure it would be suitable, but there were no signs of anyone around. "I'm sorry" she quickly added, realizing how condescending she must have sounded. "It's just.. I haven't seen many people at all since I came, and it's been a long time and there are no buildings. Not even a way-station, or roads..." Rilo looked between the strangers with confusion apparent on the delicate visage, uncertain about whether the culture of this land was similar to her own. She wanted to think it natural, but it would probably prove naive - she just had to think back to her homeland to realize that not everyone were the same.

She flinched a bit as the large painted lady walked over and touched the side against her own, feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable being so close to a stranger. Then warmth began to seep in through her skin, through the all too short coat that never had been in need of thickening to get her through the seasons; with a sigh the short fawn relaxed a little, leaning into the foreigner.

"Thank you" she said quietly, sniffling pathetically as she looked between the others. "I'm not really hurt, not in a while." She looked back over her body, studying the marred frame with a practical gleam in the seeing eye that hinted she was used to seeing worse. Most of the scars were healed by now, long gashes that ate through the soft sand-colored coat and made it darker or lighter than intended, sometimes leaving hairless seams of knotted skin where healing had been particularly difficult. They were the remains of severe abuse, too plentiful for someone so young; enough to last a lifetime, to kill someone if delivered all in one go.

No, rather than hurt, she was just tired. Hungry and thin, with no sheen to the coat and no winter coat, unused to the phenomenon called winter and to sleep beneath the stars, where no fires warmed the body and shadows ate away at the sanity. As for the cold...
"I tried to cross the river" she admitted, attempting to smile but not quite managing it - her heart ached too much, the memory of the lost ones so very close still.

"You're really kind, aren't you? It feels like ages have passed since I spent time in the company of others." Her accent spoke of foreign lands far away, thick and at times difficult to understand; much like theirs was to her. The ears crowning the graceful poll was slowly rolling forward again, hesitantly as if she didn't quite trust that the welcoming attitude was going to last. Kindness had been so scarce that she almost forgot what it was like - the gentle warmth, the generosity... She had been like that, once. Before everything broke.