Sumatia had denied my offer to travel with Ophelia. Instead she deemed my time would be better spent searching for Kri, spreading the information to the head of this body. Considering most of what had been spoken was to the majority of those in charge of the Throat; such information wouldn’t evade our leader’s ears for long. Gaucho had left the party before much information could be shared, yet my Sultana had chosen him as her body guard. A lesser warrior might feel put down by being sent on an errand as messenger boy. But not this warrior, I accepted her decision with humble grace; stepping back in line without a word of argument.

My wings unfurled, hindlegs coiled their steps backwards. Retracting from the group enough so that my thrusts wouldn’t send a load of sand upon them. Once a reasonable distance had been gathered away from those still lingering, I bid the others farewell with a halfsmile. Wishing Ophelia safe travels before igniting toward heaven with heavy beats. Their voices disappeared among the sounds of my appendages pumping fluidly. Air whistled around me, pulling my mane and tail. Gazing around, I traveled first to the Oasis; searching for the one she had bid me to find. Trees passed beneath me, no sign of Kri yet.

Now that father is gone, I like to think I am something of mother's protector. With Cirrus so unusually - though understandably - distant, I can feel that obligation to the mare who birthed me grow even stronger. I can see the way my mother mourns him through every facet of her being. I can see the way her sorrow permeates every inch of her loving face. Even when a smile illuminates her features, I can see the sadness swimming in her eyes to sully the happiness. I wish there was something I could do to chase that sorrow away, but I fear though try I might, it will dog her still.

I try my best to shun all traces of gloom. I feel as though it is my job to remain strong while mother and sister are so laden in bereavement. I too miss my father greatly and long for his presence, but not quite so intensely as they do, and for different reasons. I almost feel guilty for this, and for the fact that I will never get to know him quite as closely as other fillies get to know their sires. For that, I am truly remorseful.

I have not seen my mother in some time. Although I suspect she is going through something similar to Cirrus, seeking out solitude as she mourns my father, I have begun to worry. Even Cirrus is not entirely truant from my life, for I see her every now and then with Sitka. I feel vaguely jealous of the hound, though not in a spiteful way. I miss my sister. Sitka seems to cheer her up so effortlessly, something I have found rather difficult as of late, though I do not blame her for her aloofness.

Suddenly a shadow streaks across the russet ground before me as I stride forward, and I lift my topaz eyes to the similarly colored sky. There soars a piebald body amongst distant, gauzy clouds, and I feel an intense urge to join him. "Midas!" I call, velveteen muzzle tipped to the sky, the juvenility that once so-thickly coated my voice now nearly gone entirely. I move with a calm sort of grace as I canter forward, my wings extended out from the slopes of my body. I curl my forelegs as I leap upward, allowing the wind to propel my gangly form higher and higher, the air gently preening my feathers as I come to join our General. I arrive at his side, though just behind him as not to invade the flapping space of his wings.

"Hope you don't mind the company." I say with a smile. Flying always lifts my spirits. "Are you looking for someone?"

I come to realize just how quickly I have grown in the past few months. Where Midas once towered over me by a good two feet, I have now nearly caught up to him. Of course he is much more filled out than I, my form still retaining some of its childish ungainliness. I have always been built a bit more like a colt than a filly, lacking the smoothness and frail prettiness that most others my age possess, but I care little. My wingspan, I notice, is already broader than his own - I have my father's genetics (and my mother's, too) to thank for that.

I peer toward him after a moment of silence. "Have you seen my mother?" I ask. Concern is clearly evident in my voice, and I wonder if he too has noticed her absence

After fruitlessly searching for Kri along the Oasis boarder I shift direction south, toward the ocean. It was common knowledge that Kri often trained in the space between land and sea. Perhaps I would find her among the dunes, molding some poor boy into a man. I hadn’t gotten far when suddenly below my auditory senses catch the sound of a voice-- calling my name. Ebony crown twists to once side; bottomless pools scored the desert below to see who had spoken. Instinctively my wing beats slow, nearly backpedaling until I pulled up into a momentary hover. A feat that was only possible with the aid from smaller size and training.

I had been expecting to see Cassiopeia gazing up; (my mind registered that her tone was similar to the one who had just bleated.) But the assumption was misplaced, instead of a tall amazon woman that streaked upward to meet me. It was her daughter, with a pelt that shimmered and reminded me of furious storm clouds/lighting. This wasn’t a grieving woman, though she bore striking resemblance to both sire and dam, it was none other than Azzuen’s youngest child. Azulee. I grin and level off, resuming my direction while she catches up. “Hope you don’t mind the company.”

My neck bends, turning head toward her so that she might see the gentle pleasure that had etched its way into my fatherly face, “Your presence is always welcome.” Sometimes it was nice to just fly with another, enjoy their wingbeats so fluidly thrusting with your own. Feeling the slightest change in thermals and adjusting accordingly. If one simply shut down their brain and just flew—instinct would guide the movement. It was almost…effortless.

How had she been? Was her mother alright? Where was Cirrus? Most of her family remained in solitude; grieving.

So many questions, none of them would be given life right now. It simply wasn’t in my nature to rattle off every string of nonsense that happened to spark behind the skull. “Are you looking for someone?” Facing into the wind, I have to talk a little louder, “Yes, actually I’m looking for Kri. Have you seen her?” My yearling friend asks another question—one a little unexpected, “Have you seen my mother?” Nay I had not.

If anyone knew where Cass as holed up, I figured her children would know; “I haven't seen her around lately, isn't Cirrus with her?” The topic only worried me a little, Azzuen’s mate was a strong woman; not easily overcome. Still, this information was troubling—and would have to be reported to the Sultanas.

He says he is looking for our Sultana, and I prick my ears forward. Indeed I have seen her and I am glad I can be of assistance. "Actually, yes. I saw her earlier, by Dragon's Blood. Not sure if she's still there now, but that's where I'd look," I say pragmatically, straining to amplify my voice so it may be heard above the non-musical whistle of the air. I finish off with a thoughtful nod and turn my gaze in the direction of the peculiar tree, though knowing it to be beyond my plane of sight, far off in the distance. "I wouldn't mind showing you where." I add, a thin cloak of inquisitiveness coating the words as they spill coolly from my tongue. Obviously Midas knows where Dragon's Blood is, but the Resolute one was sort of oblique to it when I had seen her last, so I figure it would be best if I show him exactly where. I wait for his initiative before I head off in that direction.

I haven't seen her around lately, isn't Cirrus with her? I am disappointed to hear his answer, but I can't say I had not expected as such. I shake my head in a silent negative before replying vocally: "No. Cirrus hasn't seen her either," I say, my voice laden in concern. "I'm worried, Midas. I hope nothing bad happened to her." The mere thought of something unsavory befalling my mother causes my stomach to churn and a grimace to breed along the youthful panes of my face. I sigh, a brisk burst of air whirring from my nostrils as I glide along benevolent currents of wind, my wings held stiff and stagnant from my sides.

I don't think I could cope with losing another parent.

Seems that luck was with me today, Azulee knew where to find Kri—which would hopefully make short work of this hide ‘seek game. She offers even more service by choosing to actually show me the exact location; appreciative I allow the wind to tug my lips apart into a grateful beam, “Lead the way malady, Azulee.” I say, while banking to follow her movements, wings thrusting in a rhythm that would keep them from slapping against her feathers.

It would also seem that the eldest daughter wasn’t with their mother as expected. I mimic Azulee’s frown, mildly concerned now. My mind rakes upon itself to remember the last time I actually witnessed Cass in the flesh…perhaps a glance here and there between the sandstone caves, or by the watering hole in our Oasis. It wasn’t polite to bother a lady during her time of grief, and I didn’t want to be one of those that approached only to have her force that wounded bird smile. No. So, like many of the others, we kept our distance. Maybe, the Throat had kept too much space between the broken hearted.

Where would she go?

“Kri might have an idea of where she is, and if our leader doesn’t—either way; we will find your Mother. I promise you that.” The last part of my sentence comes out in a tone that resembles assurance, but also authority. We would find her, of that much I was sure. My teeth set themselves together, though the mind is firing pistons. Silently I send a prayer to heaven, ‘let her be safe my Lord.’ She was a sister and the widow mate to my late mentor; family.

I return his halcyon expression with a smile of my own, though my sooty, charcoal lips never fully disunite. Instead the corners bend upward to form a near-perfect tilt of concavity, a small sliver of my stained, ivory teeth barely visible. "This way," I say as I make an ushering gesture with my head and contentedly angle my gangly form in the direction of where I'd last seen our Sultana. I wonder idly what counsel Midas seeks from her, but I refrain from asking. After all, it really isn't much of my business what matters are to be discussed between a General and his leader. I suppose father taught me that, sort of.

I notice that Midas' expression mirrors my own when I mention that Cirrus has also noticed my mother's absence. His following words give me a bit of hope. "Thanks--" I aver genuinely. "for everything, Midas. You've always been good to my sister and me, mother, too." The tone of my voice may be filled with the lightness of youth, but my words are sincere and mature. "My father always spoke highly of you," I add, beaming with loving pride as I mention that noble stallion whose blood courses through my veins. My heritage is truly something to be proud of.

Passively I follow the storm child’s lead; desiring to have my spilling of information and perhaps a few questions answered by the head of our family. It was Kri that kept us all together, and it was through her alone that most things got done. The youngest daughter to my late mentor finds at least some comfort with my promise—I had never given any of my family reason to question my words, or have them find holes that would jeopardize the tongues ability to hold weight. It was still humbling nevertheless to see this babe’s trust in my grasp, knowing that I could just as swiftly break any promise—and in the same note, become a salvation.

Azulee tugs on my heartstrings, not painfully, but with reverence. I smile, the gentle curve of my features like a beam of sunlight. They were my family, and as her father would have readily given life and limb to assure their safety, my safety—I would do the same. As her da might have. “My father always spoke highly of you.” Her tone is one without ignorant boast, but loving dignity—and why shouldn’t she be proud? He was a mighty warrior, a brother, a good man.

Gently, though loud enough to be heard over the whistling wind. I speak up, “His mentoring is missed, yet your father is missed more so for the time that is lost. You words honor me dear one, I thank you for the comfort they bring.” It wasn’t often that I got a chance for open grief. Only in front of Cera had I revealed the wound to be mended.

I feel a sudden prick of sadness when Midas mentions him. I loved my father (despite how short our our together on this Earth actually was) and still do. I may mourn his passing differently than mother and sister, but I have certainly mourned, just as our entire herd - this one large nation in the desert - has as well. Where Cirrus and mother have become withdrawn, I find it easier cope with the loss when in the company of others. I hate to see my family in such a sorrowful state, and I wish there was something I could do to lessen their grief.

I can't help but think back to when I was a filly, frolicking in the Heavenly Fields as my father kept a watchful eye. A lump crawls up into the back of my throat and it takes me a moment to swallow it down, the bittersweet melancholy that ladens his memory still remaining, welling in my eyes. I am uncertain why I choose now to let the sadness creep through. I am sad mostly by the fact I will never see his face again, or come to truly know him. My youthful voice emerges slowly, a bit quieter than before but I try to mask my sadness as best I can. I believe I do a decent job in doing so. "I am glad they can be of some comfort." I say this genuinely, and offer him a smile, albeit a somber one. There are few things that emerge from my mouth not reminiscent of truth and I mean every word I have spoken to Midas. I grow silent then, thinking. Dad will always be missed, but I take comfort in knowing that he is never far away. He will always be with me.

A long silence ensues between us. It is not awkward - it is far from such. I am content in enjoying the company of a friend in peace. We soon come to Dragon's Blood, and I scan the russet Earth below for the mahogany figure of our Sultana. "She should be around here somewhere," I say, and continue my search.

[ooc ; Ugh, not the best post I've ever written, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. The timeline of this is a bit messed up, and I wasn't sure if you still wanted to continue. Technically Cassiopeia is still a prisoner of the Aurora Basin at the time of this thread, and I think Kri should be the next to post when Boom comes back from being absent <3]