I had nearly forgotten my original purpose in arriving here, such was my intense focus upon the roan maiden. The glance we share may have only lasted a breath of time, yet that breath seemed to take eons to come to pass, as our violet eyes searched the other, spinning deep, wondrous tales, exposing everything and yet at the same time, nothing, about one's self. I like her, I am surprised to discover, I long to speak further with her, to see exactly what her stories would tell me, exactly what it was about her that captured my interest. I am only allowed a single breath of observation, however, as it seems the brother of my herdmate has recovered from his silent affliction to grace us with the deep melody of his voice - though I would liken the actual sound of his words to that of an off-key trumpet; empty, meaningless, with potential to do great things if only proper care was taken.

He threatens me, or at least, he tries to. I may appear frail, small, diminutive, before these titanic creatures, but the wisdom and knowledge, the years of trials and tribulations I have gone through would be all for naught should I feel affected by his pseudo-domineering presence. My attention has swivelled back upon him, my piercing eyes drinking him in and betraying perhaps a little bit of disappointment. It was always sad to see such potential go to waste, such a fine bodice, such perfectly crafted muscle, powerful wings and horns - all placed upon the mantle of an idiot who would call himself a God. A small, wispy smile curves my lips, for I know of Gods, intimately so. I look to Thor as he speaks, my eyes softening as they do; I preferred his calm demeanour and defective wings any day when compared to the trash that stood before us, trash that was attempting to behave like the treasure it might once have been.

"Blood is not the only definer of one's family." I have chosen to ignore the other stallion, this Loki, for now, as he speaks only jibberish, and too much of it besides. One day, perhaps, he would learn to engage his vocals only when necessary, and allow nothing but wisdom to drip from his lips. I truly doubted that would ever be the case, however. My sharp gaze swivels back upon this angry little tyrant, and though I may be shorted, the sheer weight of my knowledge, my experiences, my powers outshines his; it is something that cannot be changed or altered, not without interference from the Gods of this land, whom I so admire. I hold this Loki with my attention for as little time as possible, the thought of prolonging this awkward, futile encounter did irritate me.

"I was embraced by the Gods of this land before your life had even thought about being born; if you prove a threat to me or my kin, you will experience something akin to hell on earth." The words were spoken by my gentle voice, calmly, factual, and all the more deadly and serious for it. I spare one glance to Thor, before looking to the little mare once more. Another arrives, and it seems the issue of a home for Loki would be sorted by the wilds - which was fitting, for what place does a horse who thinks he is a god have amongst herdlands blessed by true gods? Once again I am drawn to the mare, and I long to spend more time with her, to learn about her, to see if she might even be willing to learn from me. There is wit about her, one that she hides behind a shell of sarcasm and hatred, but she shows me nothing of that, instead she seems to long for similar things that I do, if I were to judge by her gaze alone.

"The World's Edge; remember this." I speak only to her now, the others have faded to the background, my eyes only have sights for the roan. The sense behind my words is there, though only the wise would pick up on the many layers of communication they convey. I was asking this mare to join me there, not necessarily to join the ranks of our herd, but so that we might find solace, and further look into this puzzling sensation that had been found between us. I take my leave of this place now, for it is too close to the edges of our realm, too close to where the reach of the gods of Helovia expires. Lithe and nimble, my wraith-like figurine is absorbed by the wilderness surrounding us, and swiftly I make to return to my home; the land I was born to, the land I serve with my very soul.



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