Predawn light was just beginning to slant across the black mountainscape as Roland began his journey out of the Aurora Basin, breath fogging in the chilly air. He had not risen early enough to accompany Arah directly, but followed the meandering trail of her footsteps as they led out of the valley and into the pass. Wind howled in the Phantom's ears as he walked, mulling over the task at hand. He was startled to have been awarded the Dark Empress' trust so soon, when he had been a part of their herd for no more than a season at best; but he was grateful to have been given work nonetheless.

The path he followed, now familiar as he had traversed it many times, was dark and windy. The Phantom felt small and exposed despite the towering cliffs on either side of him, blocking the brightening horizon from view. The last of the northern lights died out overhead as daybreak neared and the stallion travelled further south. Roland's gait was steady, moving quickly over the rocky terrain as he attempted to catch up with Arah before she reached the Foothills. The slightest amount of uneasiness settled in his chest, putting his nerves on edge. The Basin was not looked upon kindly by all, and they would be asking no small favour of their neighbours.

He parted ways with the constricting throat of the pass, stepping into the full throes of autumn as the howling wind died around him, no longer forced along the jagged walls of cliffs. Lush grass met his hooves and the sky opened up before him. The sun was just breaching the distant hills, and Roland could see Arah's white form a ways from him. Lurching into a trot he made his way down the hill towards her, ears perked as the mare called out. He could see he was late to arrive when another shape appeared from the rock laden slopes and stopped before his herdmate.

Cursing his lateness, Roland drew up along Arah's side, brushing his muzzle against her neck in greeting. He caught the black mare's introduction and inquiry, giving her a sombre nod of acknowledgement. "My name is Roland, and this is Arah," he responded, assuming Ktulu had already guessed where they were from; the smell of northern winds and ice must have clung to their pelts. "There are growing tensions between the Aurora Basin and the Dragon's Throat. On behalf of Psyche, we request the Grey's assistance in the event of an attack. We are willing to pay for your efforts."

walk walk walk
"talk talk talk"