Aswane feels hope settle in her eyes. It is a warm, homely settlement for the wandering child. It is not that she is lost in the shadows of the mighty trees, but she is forgotten in their stillness. Her hooves pierce the ground quietly, sinking into the ancient carpet of decayed leaves. She feels like a sleuth in the tall shadows, veiled beneath the slumbering guard of the magical authoritarians. They watch her between closed eyes, dancing among the wide trunks, pale tail flicking gingerly to swat the ancient bark. Her green eye adjusts to the darkness, pupil growing wider than ever. She is hardly afraid in the cool comfort. Aswane’s one good eye watches ravens rattle the branches above every once in a while, their own black eyes watching as if she’s a meal for a larger, more dominant predator. However, the filly doesn’t notice the dangers of nature; she accepts them in her spiritual chakras and walks on, deeper and deeper into the grove. Her heart pulsates with the resonating growth of unseen life around her. She can feel the forest spirits hum through her cleft hooves.

She is honey for a bear here. Alone and vulnerable in the depths of formidable shade. The filly walks on legs like matchsticks that could dexterously breach to the jaws of a wolf or other monster. No one could guess how many are watching, eyes foul, curdled blood rims in the bushes, waiting to steal the flesh from her chest. But the filly continues to walk through the shadows of mere death, fearless by such ignorance.

The tunnel of gorse gives way for her, and little blotches of weak sun stretch down to the leafy carpet. A bird caws in the distance, and her one good green eye flickers under a blinking eyelid. She draws back as her sight falls on to the pale, swan-like figure of Israfel. Aswane immediately gasps, and her blood freezes, both eyes, blind and healthy stare wide at the winged filly. She was an aspiration, a pallid figurine, so perfect, nearly glowing with youthful beauty and divine allure. The flowerchild nears, footfalls timid for once among the quiet woods. The pale filly ahead is boisterous, her own splashes echoing through the dark wood. Aswane nears her, coming beside her holding unknown grace in her step.

She stops where the ruby water gives way to gem, much like an ocean would to sand. Her star-marked head gleams at the ambrosial child, smiling behind a twig tangled puff of forelock. " Hello, " she says shyly, dipping her own thirsty muzzle to the dazzling surface. Aswane watches the filly, her attention absorbed in the fragile gaiety of the pool's red ruby. " That stone you have is sure beautiful. Only a god could create something of such charm. "

The cool ruby water slides down her throat, quenching what thirst devour her senses. Her tongue peeks through her lips, skidding against the glimmering facets of the pool's bottom. The chill lingers in her mouth as she takes a final swallow, pulling her mouth away from the delicacies below. Aswane glances behind her, hearing more hooves press into the carpet of leaves. The one behind her is another filly, cloaked white in a speckled dress of hair. Her dark muzzle lights up in smile, nodding in greeting to the young unicorn. She is around the same age as Israfel, and Aswane stands much taller than them, however she feels no different.

"My dad made it,"

Israfel's voice throws her mind off balance, and brings back memories she'd rather not remember. The girl remembers all too well locked away in her sister's care at that age, she never received the love of a mother or father and only her sister's youth could contain the boundless mind and heart that she owned. She remembers them as the albino mare speaks about how her father made the red gems. She can't help but find a small chuckle in her throat soon replaced by a smile.

"Your father must have been gifted by the gods then, to make such precious gems." She wishes she could think so highly of her own father, but abandonment only ignites more so in her soul. It makes a tremble wave in her brain. She feels lost amongst such joy. All at once she feels opposite. Aswane finds her smile fading away as the new filly approaches. Her one green eye flicks to Frost Fyre who comes with such delicate unicorn grace. She wants to forget the history and move on, but it all seems to collide in her brain like giant waves against a small town. Pain soars high in her heart and she looks again to the marvelous gems, seeking distraction.

A moment passes, and she returns eyes with Fyre and Isra completely forgetting anything they might have said, so she changes the subject.

"My name is Aswane by the way." The silver bay remembers posture and holds herself up, ears erect and mouth a smile again. "What are your names?"