The morning was still young, yet already it seemed so full of life. Up in the trees stretched so high into the sky, the birds sang their songs, as if trying to ease the land out of it's slumber. For some, the commotion was just what they needed to be lulled into a possibly even deeper sleep, just the same as those who took joy in sleeping to a rainstorm as they hid in the thick of a tree, or beneath the stony shelter of a cave. For others, though, they much rather preferred to be up and experiencing the orchestra, uncaring that the sun had hardly started to show its face.

One of those individuals myself. I had awoken some time ago, when the darkness had only just begun to rise. As per usual, I was on my feet in no time, and not a single thought of complaint crossed my mind as I began my daily routine of checking the borders. I did not feel particularly rushed on this day, instead slowing my steps to a leisurely walk and taking in the scenery of my home. The World's Edge was spectacular in every sense of the word, and not a day went by where I didn't count my lucky stars for giving me the chance to be a part of it. Not only was the land beautiful, but my family, the Qian, were something special indeed. Although my time spent with them amounted to less than a year, I knew I could trust them with my life, and hoped that they would instill the same level of trust in me for many years to come. I would serve them well no matter the circumstances.

As I rounded the bend that led me north and past the sheer cliffs, my eyes beheld a dark figure in the distance. The instinct of a warrior causes me to fault briefly, wondering if this was an intruder I was looking upon, but my worries are quickly pushed aside when I realize it is our beloved Weyrleader herself. A gentle smile pulls at my lips, and a moment later I continue my locomotion, approaching the midnight mare with quiet steps. The small forms behind her had been a mystery to me when I had been distanced, but as I drew closer, I realized that they were slumbering children. I hoped that I was not disturbing the group with my presence, and if I was, then I hoped that my Lady would send me away at once. She seemed happy enough, however, for the sweetest melody was playing from her throat in a lullaby. I did not know the tune, but it reminded me fondly of the nights when the men of Valhea would gather around a campfire, and sing songs of their daring adventures and dreams.

"What a lovely song," I say, the compliment slipping easily from my lips as I finally drew close enough and halted. Dipping my head in a display of respect, I then settled my gaze back upon the children. My voice was soft, quiet enough where I hoped that I would not disturb the resting youths. "And they are just as well. I hope I am not intruding; but may I inquire their names, my lady?"