On days where the snow obscured one's path from view, I was glad we lived in the desert. The sands still grew warm then the Sun managed to peek out from behind the dreary, overcast, pregnant clouds above us. The nights were chilly, but as the days grew shorter, our coats grew longer, thicker, more capable of containing our body heat.

There was also the convenient fact that my beloved possessed a magic she was still learning, a magic that allowed her to live in whatever weather she pleased, a magic blessed upon her the same day her father passed from this realm, to the next. I remember that day. It was a beautiful day, one I know she thinks about often - for I hear and feel all her thoughts, and she feels most of mine. Each time she thinks of him, a glimmer of sadness dares to stick it awful head up, and I growl at it, and scare it back down - each time, it gets easier, and I know that there will be a day that she will think of him, and I will not need to chase away the sadness, for she will be healed.

Why we are in the Threshold this day is something I am still unclear on. My beloved wished to travel North, that much I know, but she was without direction, without aim or purpose. I clung to her back, like I had many times now (slowly I was getting used to the idea of flight), shutting my eyes tight against the chilling wind - silently hoping my beloved would employ her gift to warm the air around us. But as I delve into her mind I realise she is doing something else, asking the wind to be gentle to her wings - they were larger than most pegasi, I had noted with some pride, but this also meant that they were more prone to getting caught in unpredictable windfalls or uprises than those with shorter, stouter wings.

It was like a prayer in her cranium, a chant, murmuring over and over, I felt her plea to her magic to hold on, to guide her bodice in exactly the way she needed it to go - I felt fear rising at the back of her mind, from the same place the sadness sometimes peeked out of, fear that she would fail in this flight in the midst of a snowstorm, fear that we would descend. I growled, champing on her mane with renewed vigour, chasing the fear away, lending her my strength, my fearlessness, my inner fire. It worked - until we saw something, someone descending from the skies before us.

It was only because she was so dark against the whiteout of the snow that we noticed her descent. Through my beloved's eyes, I watched the form fall in just the way my beloved feared we would - but we did not copy her. Holding fast to her magic, she barely summoned the wind to give us a gentle landing, and with some curiosity she saw another approach the fallen form of the pegasus. With a smooth leap I was upon the snow on my own dark feet, watching as my beloved Cirrus tucked her large wings to her side, and approached the fallen one with caution, nickering out warmly (despite the chilly circumstances).

With a stubborn shake of my coat, I felt the fire ignite along my back then, chasing away more cold from the scene, and giving it a new, eerie, blue light. Cirrus meanwhile, summoned her voice, and in firm, unyielding tones, she ordered the one standing nearby to stand back - kicking snow upon an unconscious soul was not going to help. "Stand back, and be quiet." It was not impolite, merely given in the tones of one who knew better - my beloved was a healer, after all, and was slowly gaining more experience in these circumstances.

I felt her concentrate then, as she called upon her personal magic to make the weather be more pleasant - she was not yet strong enough to abate the storm completely, but she could take the edge off it, and offer the local area with some unusual warmth - aided by the flames that danced along my spine. I came closer, giving her eyes the light they needed to see the extent of the damage. Though the patient was unconscious, my beloved began to hum and chant, knowing that the melody helped her own concentration just as much as it often soothed the patient. Hopefully, as the patient woke up, it would be slowly - should she wake up to quickly, she was liable to hurt herself more.

It was after she found her tune that she summoned the magic the Sun God had blessed her with as a healer of the Throat. I felt it light up within her, I saw it glisten behind her cerulean eyes. The storm that raged in the skies above also raged upon her coat, but there was a calm serenity within my beloved, and she extended it to the fallen creature before her, reaching down with her soft muzzle to touch the dark pegasus' wet pelt, feeling a warm connection lace them together - her magic, as it moved from herself to the unconscious. It was thrilling, to feel it weave its way around the bruised and battered body, leaving nothing but pure, perfect flesh in its wake. As it danced around the mind of the fallen, the light cushioned the damaged brain, gently restoring what had been altered to make the mare fall unconscious.

The job was complete, and with a deep sigh, Cirrus cut the tie to the healing magic, feeling duller, darker in the wake of the Sun God's brilliant, enlightened gift. I crept closer to my beloved's side, lighting her instead with the flames upon my back, flames that would never burn her, but instead always provide her with the comfort that I was here.

And then we waited, to see what would become of her efforts.

As I focussed upon my beloved, I watched as she observed the fallen one regain her consciousness, and awaken. The dark limbs that carried the stormy pelt above stepped back, giving space for the creature of feathers, sinew and limbs to rise, fearing that as she did so, she would surely hurt herself again. But the mare seemed to gather her feet beneath her with relative ease - though her wits were still somewhat scattered. Taking another step back, I had to sigh at the fear that my presence invariably triggered - but I did not leave my beloved's side, both physically and mentally, for her own mind was still feeling the effects of the magic she wielded with such expertise, and I had to be there, to help her. She stammered a jumble of words, emphasising her fear of my canine form - I merely tilted my head at her, lolling my tongue out to the side and panted, knowing full well that while this was the canine expression of relaxation, it could be read as something totally different. Words from the pale equine mare caught our attention then, as Cirrus and my head's both turned to view the one called Accalia. Her words were.. Confusing. Did she not see me here, standing beside my bondmate? Did she not feel the warmth from the fire that danced along my spine? I whined lowly, the sound not that different to a growl, but with a distinctively less aggressive tone to it. My bonded took more offence to this affront, and immediately stepped towards the equine, unafraid to get in her face about the issue.

"Are you blind?" She asked bluntly, actually genuinely curious to know whether the mare could not see me. Turning her attention back to the dark pegasus, annoyance still lining her posture, she spoke in matter-of-factual tones, ears tilting slightly as they threatened to be swallowed by her haphazardous mane. "You fell plenty hard. I healed you - couldn't have you dying face first in the snow. Sitka is my bondmate, he shall not harm you." Unless I asked him to. Her thoughts reverberated in her cranium, and I wondered if they were true. I was loyal to the death of my beloved one, but I was capable of making my own decisions too - I did feel like chewing on the leg of the equine mare for her ignorance, but refrained, knowing that it would not help the situation. "Why the fuck would you think strolling in a snowstorm is lovely?" The attention of my beloved had turned back to the equine, wondering what kind of drugs she was on. Since her study of the healing arts, her knowledge of different herbs and what they could do had expanded dramatically, she knew that some could alter one's state of mind - was this equine affected by one, or more, such things? "Oh," the little storm-hued mare murmured, as I interjected upon her brain a sense of restraint, a gentle reminder that she was yet to illuminate the gathered of her own name. "I'm Cirrus, hailing from the Dragon's Throat, a desert land, south of here." And sure as hell warmer too.

I had to be amused at my beloved's spitfire tendency to jump before she thought about the landing. Her wicked tongue and forthright sense of righteousness was sometimes misplaced, but she meant well, and truly, she was an incredible soul - I certainly felt honoured to share links with it. Around us, the weather shifted, the storm still raging overhead battered against the magical 'bubble' she had constructed, and as I felt the pressure of holding onto her magic increase, I felt her consciously shift the hold she grasped onto of her magic - a breeze, chilly, icy like that which carried snow around us, stole a path through the gathering, all the more colder due to the warmth that had previously comforted us. The pegasus youth that shared my soul snorted lightly, before wandering back to my side, touching the crown of my skull with the smooth, velvet touch of her lips, before looking over her shoulder to the dark, shadowy pegasus. "You're welcome to follow me to shelter if you like." Turning her sharp, icy gaze to the equine mare, she locked away the name of the band she claimed to be a part of (or was she their leader? She did say my band, after all) - the name itself was enough to deter Cirrus. Assassins ran along the lines of ones who killed, either for reward, or simply pleasure. Cirrus was a healer, though she was keen to know how to defend herself (and had learned a fair bit when her father was still alive), she had no desire to associate herself with one who belonged to a group that openly paraded their desires for death. Turning herself away from the gathering with barely another glance, she folded her wings down more tightly (so that they wouldn't be pried open by the cutting wind and break against the nearby naked boughs of the surrounding forest), and began walking.

I lingered behind for merely a moment, looking between each soul with quiet curiosity, wondering if either of them would seek further attention from my beloved. Huffing slightly, I too then turned away, walking smoothly in the wake of my beloved, forever grateful that now she was upon the ground and not so focussed on the distraction of guiding the wind beneath her wings, she could focus upon merely warming the bubble of air that surrounded us.

[She's not gone totally, she's just never been a recruiter, lol. :P]

The dark one continues speaking, and while my abrupt little stormcloud had begun wandering away, she did tilt an ear towards the sound, smiling to herself. I felt in her mind, the realisation that she was speaking to a foreigner, a newcomer to the lands - this was not something she often did. Normally others in the herd brought them home, and that was where she greeted them (or more often then not, healed them). The questions the unknown dark mare posed were not unusual questions - the fact of the matter was, Cirrus was born into this wonderfully chaotic, magical world and so thought that this was normal. Being bonded to myself had further opened her eyes to the wonders Helovia contained - being able to palpate another's soul with one's own was an enlightening experience, to say the least.

"What is your name?" My little stormcloud asked, pausing her step to allow the pegasus to catch up, glad to pretend the equine assassin was behind them, forgotten. As the words kept on coming from the dark one, my bonded realised just how sheltered a life this mare must have lived before literally tumbling into the Threshold. Cirrus couldn't possibly hope to explain everything, but I felt the resolve within her tighten as she aimed to do her very best to enlighten the mare on the workings of Helovia.

"Sitka is hardly tame," she began, with an amused smile thrown my way. I lolled my tongue out of my mouth in a few breaths of pant - a generally happy expression, though panting wasn't really needed in these chilly circumstances. "We are bound to one another, our souls have been entwined.. He is everything to me." She said quietly, though clear enough to be heard over the wind that danced around us, but subtle enough that the wind would blur the words to anyone but the shadowy mare. Her magic was working hard to try and deflect said wind, so that the pocket of warmth around us could continue to be maintained. "Bones do heal at their own pace, as do feathers and flesh and blood and everything else.. Unless you are gifted with the ability to enhance this natural process, to improve it and to bend it to your will. My home is sanctioned by the Lord of the Sun, and he granted me with this magic, for as long as I might wish to call myself a healer."

There was so much to speak of, so much to say, that she simply could not say right now. The Sun God had done a great many thing for her - she was sure it had been he who took her father's bodice in the form of a phoenix, he who had given her the magic to alter the weather on that same day, he who had even given me my ability to call flames to dance along my spine. "You walk now in the Threshold of Helovia, a land that contains much more than I have spoken of. That mare back there.. That assassin," she said the word with undisguised distaste, "is an equine, just one of the species that shares Helovia's vast grounds. The other main one is a unicorn, and they look much like equines, but have horns, usually jutting out from their heads." And commonly stealing my family.

"I'm actually travelling North at the moment," she said, knowing she was doing an appalling job at 'recruiting', as those who often took part in the task called it. "My home, the Dragon's Throat, is south of here -you'd be welcome there."

[ Posting out of order as Orinthia indicated to Chan that she would not be pursuing this if Shadow would not follow her. Please let me know if I am incorrect and I shall delete this post myself, thank you. ]