She had been almost silent since her fight with Lakota. The mixed pallet had settled comfortably into the foothills and while her punishment still hung over her head, nothing would send her running from this home. Her tears had long since dried, her fighting and stubborn side was all that lived now. It may had only been a short amount of time, but she had become fiercely protective for her older sister. The crumbling soul that needed her baby sister to carry her. After every thing that Lakota had done for her, Hana didn't care in the slightest. In fact she wanted to do it. Where had Lakota gotten to though? Hana hadn't seen her sister in a while and the young dame assumed that she had run off somewhere wanting to escape the shadows that she constantly lived in. Hana had ended up standing by a tree, the ground was frozen, Frostfall was truly upon them. She was searching for her dark sister, whose pelt would easily show against the pale snow. Worry upset her stomach making her feel nauseous, desperation upset her mood. Hana found herself turning in a slow circle while her ruby eyes searched. No where did she spot her sister's dark hide, no where did she magically appear from. So it was going to have to be a search on foot. Before she had even taken a step though, Ophelia's dragon Tinek, flew above her, and she noticed a few other's following him. A small smile played on her chops before she began to follow him as well. He was such an amazing creature.

Seeing the other's following him, Hana guessed that it was time for a herd meeting. Interested in the purpose of the meeting and hopeful she would find her sister there, Hana walked quickly to where they where gathering. She stopped and smiled in general at everyone that had gathered. The relief filled her as her eyes settled on the coat that she knew better than her own. Lakota was here, Lakota was safe. Her sister, the one person she would happily die for. She walked quickly to her sister's side, she was careful to give Ktulu a wide berth, not wanting to risk her life today. She pressed her muzzle to her sister's neck. Hana then looked into Lakota's eye and did a quick assessment of her sister. She saw past her sister's acting, the pain and darkness lurked. But there was something different in her eyes. Was it hope? Hana frowned at her sister, she seemed to be at different ends of the emotional scale all at once. "We will talk about it after this, okay?" It was a soft whisper intended only for her sister. Then her bright ruby eyes settled on Ophelia, however her mind rested with her sister still. Worry. That was all Hana felt after reading her sister's eyes. What was plaguing her mind now? But more importantly what had changed her sisters sadness, what had given her hope?

She did not feel the need to add in anything to everything that was already mentioned. She had no questions to ask and was quite content just listening in to everyone speaking. In all honesty when her sisters question was answered, so would Hana's. Her eyes fluttered down to the little filly that introduced herself as Ranjiri and Hana chuckled. "How adorable." Hana murmured to no one in particular. Little babies where so adorable, Hana was eager for the day that she would have her own children.

The Foothills had become a harbor of snow. It blanketed the grasses leeching away the sun, burying the sea of strands under the cold that browned them. The trees were stripped bare and exposed to their last strip of gangly bark, a sheet of protection that could blow away at the gust of a nostril. The world seemed to turn away from the sun and gravitate to a whisk of hollow wind in the emptiness of space. It was cold but cold seemed only to be the absence of heat.

My coat grew long, Shire fibers extending out inches from my barrel, hanging pallid as the snow. I’d lightened surprisingly over the years, nearly white now as gunmetal ringlets danced ring-around-the-rosie on my neck and haunches. My knees were the darkest part of me, nearly black on the joints. My mane clung to me in thick tassels, connected only by warm static. I swished my tail in the absence of wind. I buried my nose in the northern Foothill snow, searching out the preserved grass strands under my progression of wall rocks. It was bitter and weak over my tongue, requiring few chews to thaw the frost. It was still nourishment.

Raimo circled the trees, blue scales shining deeply against the morning sky. He dove and showed me a badger sipping the blood of a dead dove and to follow, the crack of his spine. ‘Thanks,’ I said mentally, lifting my head from the uncovered grasslets. The way he ate horrified me, starting with the head, wringing the neck, and shaking the parts he couldn’t swallow whole. Raimo could be a disgusting creature – the way he sought a good laugh at my sick reactions. I swallowed, and forcibly ate more winter foliage.

The Foothills had gradually become home. The sea of hills were waves that didn’t move and my life felt at place with them. It was definitely an oasis for horses of all kinds to live. This was the dividing wall of separation between Adalwulf’s boundary and ours. Equality was strange, but it worked. From the great grassy hills, to the spillage of mountain run off, to the great lake, the Foothills reminded me of my short days in the Emerald Valley where I first met Aërwen.

The blue screeched from the trees and without anything but simple instinct, I hauled myself through the snow to his side. The trees blurred past and my eyes found him perched on the root of an oak, soaked in a thorough amount of badger blood as Tinek, with great manner helped himself. I stopped, nerves flooding with a fainting amount of relief. ‘What the hell, Raimo?’ My eyes grew dark with anguish and I nudged him with my muzzle, slapping the cold strands of my tail at my barrel. ‘Tinek is here!’ His brown eyes smiled at me. I glared back, expression saying ‘no shit,’ and like a kid he kept smiling. I sighed impatiently.

“What is it Tinek? Does Ophelia need my assistance?”

‘It’s a herd meeting,’ Raimo answered mentally.

“Oh, a herd meeting then.” What a creative way to tell us.

I felt bad for the poor creature, running his bonded’s errands. It was bad enough having to inform every herd member that they were to report. I looked at the blue and he looked back. My eyes rolled to the half-eaten waste of badger and he chirped, telling me that he’d eat it on the way. ‘Not on my back you won’t,’ I thought, glancing to the blood oozing from the creature’s chest. ‘I’ll fly.’

I trotted inland, Raimo soaring above me, munching his badger leg. Instead of staying with me at the herd meeting, he flew to the lake to carefully clean up. I emerged from the trees, picking my way down the snow bank to where I saw the red-tipped mare. Others had gathered, and I walked past the kind Osiris, smiling to him fondly. Without the help of his wolves, Raimo would’ve never existed. I made my way toward the center of the gathering, hanging near an inky male I’d never seen. He was truly regal in his appearance, reminding me much of the moon. I halted squarely, dipping my head to Ophelia and Ktulu. They both began to speak with great brevity and I was surprised of the length. I dipped my head when the white mare spoke of an extension of the wall to the northern end. It would be smart to block the Basin winds from creeping in.

Finding a time to speak, I gathered my breath. “Yes Ophelia. Donovan and I have been working slowly in these months, however if a wall to the northern border is what you wish, I will insure that your wish is granted.” Where I lay as a crafter was not where I’d intended my hooves to be. With Raimo’s diligent help, I tried to keep positive about the Grey, remind myself that my past should be forgotten.

Casimir
Alone today in the Foothills, the stallion was starting to wonder what his purpose in life would be. He had nothing to do in this land, and thought his main family was here, the Grey was further from being his family than he would like. Since he had been accepted, he had done nothing for them. Perhaps that should change. He stood, and as he was about to walk, he felt something touch his back. He turned his head to see what it was, and it was a dragon. Colored silver and red, almost like his mistress, he remembered this dragon belonging to Ophelia, one of the leaders of this land. Upon their eyes meeting, the dragon flapped his wings, moving his head and moving in the direction opposite to where Casimir was facing. What was going on? He turned to face the dragon, a question on his lips, that perhaps the dragon would understand.

"What is little one? Do you want me to follow you?"

The dragon nodded in response, and it was with careful movement that he followed, with another sentence on his lips. "Please go slow, I cannot see very well, and I wish not to fall and hurt myself too much." So they slowly traveled, and Tinek helped make sure that Casimir did not hurt himself along the way. He always said thank you to the little dragon, and he liked him very much. It was nice that he would be so kind to help the almost blind draft through this land that was almost unfamiliar to his eyes, though he doubted it would ever be familiar since it was mostly covered with plants. The snow made it more difficult, and it took a little while for him to reach the group of other horses, with Ophelia at the front. He heard some horses talking about some things, but he guessed he had missed a lot of the meeting. He heard a draft talk of the wall, and that interested him, though he had to bring up his own concerns.

"Miss Ophelia, I would like to say something if you will. I have done nothing throughout these past few months since I have called this place my home, and I would like to change that. Would it be possible if I patrolled the borders? I have some fighting experience, but I'm rusty. I would still like to serve my family in any way possible, and I will do whatever you wish of me."

A warm trilling echoed through the cold air, and it was by that sound that Apollo lifted his head, a frozen chunk of ice and snow resting between the stallion's lips. He had been chewing on the ice, the cool sensation rather pleasant to his tongue and doing wonders to quench his thirst. Despite how very thirsty he was, the last thing that Apollo wanted to do was venture out in the snowfall to the river, puncture the thick ice that covered the stream, and then drink from there, all the while being snowed on... No, this was much better. Here, the horned stag was standing beneath a thick collectiong of pine trees, their heavily-bristled branches doing wonders to keep the overo free from most of the snow. It was meager and rather pathetic, and the pines oftentimes scratched at his sides, but... It was better than being out in the cold.

Still, as the trill floated through the air, Apollo's honey-brown orbs searched for the maker of the sound, only to spot Tinek drifting towards him moments later. Tinek...? What did he want? Was Ophelia alright? Surely she was, or else the Medic imagined that Tinek would not be so playful or leisure in his approach. Another trill floated through the air, and Apollo chuckled, daring to venture out from his hiding place. Muzzle lifted upwards, he called out to the white dragon.

"Tinek! Why are you out in the snow? Where's Ophelia?"

At his inquiry, Tinek drifted closer, seemingly unbothered by the snow. Apollo marvelled at his courage and determination, and the dragon let out another chirping trill, and turned, obviously wanting Apollo to follow. The stallion hesitated, turning to look back at his safe place nestled in the pine trees before releasing a rough breath and hurrying after the dragon. If Ophelia needed him, then he would go, no matter the weather. As he made his journey, eyes squinting against the falling snow, the white powder began to settle upon his back. The shaggy, ebony fur of the steed's winter coat absorbed the cold and helped fight against the melting snow, and his pace remained at a brisk trot as he followed after the wayward dragon.

Of course, it didn't take terribly long for Apollo to arrive at the meeting, his pace faltering as he eyed each individual who had already arrived. The overo spotted Lakota, his fellow Earth Medic, Mesec, young Roskuld, Hototo, Osiris, Peixos, Circe, and a few others who Apollo had yet to formally meet. Ktulu was there with her youngest, Ranjiri, and of course, standing at rapt attention, was Ophelia. Amber eyes glanced around in furtive silence, as if contemplating on where he should stick himself... Then, allowing his eyes to rest upon Mesec, the Moon Child, the medic ventured towards him.

He wasn't familiar with the yearling dressed in darkness, but they had crossed paths more than a few times, and there was a somber, almost downtrodden gentleness to him that Apollo felt a strange kinship to. His pace was slow, almost lethargic, and he paused on the other side of the Moon Child, for young Roskuld was currently using the yearling as a leaning post. A chuckle crossed the stallion's maw and he shook his head, and reached over to gently brush the crest of Mesec's neck with his muzzle in greeting.

As he did, Apollo's eyes turned once more to Ophelia, and he listened intently at her words. Ears swiveled forward, then tipped to the side in curiosity. A pact with the Basin...? How strange. There was surely more to this than was being spoken, but the Medic knew his place; it wasn't his right to ask. Instead, he swallowed a large breath of air, held it for a few moments, then spoke. His voice wavered slightly, as he was unused to speaking in such large groups, but...

"I will do as I can, as well. If I am needed on these... Patrols," here, the medic's tone faltered. It was no secret that he did not prefer violence. "Then I will accompany my brothers in arms. Or, if perhaps I can be of use in another way, I am open to any ideas."

Perhaps it was by pure chance that Janus stumbled upon the collection of members of the Grey. She had been wandering that day, uncaring of the frosty snow that fell upon her back, a lost and glazed look to her ice-blue eyes. This was her new home, yes, but Janus found it hard to settle without purpose. She felt no connection to those who stood a ways off, gathered around the beautiful alabaster mare with dual-colored eyes. No... The Grey was now her family, yes, but emotionally she felt no connection to them. Aside from Fence, but...

The war-mare's blue eyes searched for the Trotter's familiar frame, searching the collection of dedicated souls for the familiar tufts of ivory locks that were barely held into their once-pristine braids. There was no sign of him, and idly, the mare wondered just where Fence was. Janus didn't know if she should approach this band of close-knit mercenaries, but... She wasn't a coward, and the last thing that she wanted to do was appear intimidated or fearful by the Grey. What did she have to be afraid of? They were her kin now, her brothers in arms. Inhaling deeply and keeping that breath contained, Janus counted to three before releasing it. A swirl of mist floated from her nostrils, dancing around in the frigid air before rising and disappearing.

Squaring her shoulders, Janus ventured forward, cream-kissed hooves crunching the snow beneath her body. The Andalusian's ivory coat shone once more, as she had managed to wash the mud from her hide, but she cared not a lick for it. A war mount is what she had been raised to be, so she cared little about 'beauty' or 'appearance.' The strands of her tail flicked left, then right, before resting comfortably against the backs of her legs.

As she drew closer, Janus paused near the back of the group. What, indeed, woul they think of her? Was she truly even a part of the Grey right now, or just a bumbling outcast who had little relation? Ice-blue orbs sought out those around her, taking them all in, cataloging every detail of her soon-to-be family... Perhaps not too long from now, she could get to know them.

Turning her gaze to Ophelia, Janus waited until she was certain that no one else was going to speak before she opened her maw, forcing the words to come. Her vocals shook with light trepidation, but the Andalusian pushed past it, forcing her tone to shift and alter, to appear strong and bold. To appear the way she once was, before the wars in Vallhea had left her bitter and broken. Head lifting high, the war-mare's eyes remained locked on the blue and red orbs of Ophelia.

Please, Riveth, give me strength.

"Lady Ophelia... Lady Ktulu... I am new as well to your band, and I fear that I have met none other than your own Lev Fence. It was he who found me and brought me here, to your home... And I wish to offer my services to you in any way that I can. These patrols that you speak of... I am a soldier, my Ladies, and it would be an honor to fight for your family."

[ooc: Janus has yet to be accepted into the Grey, so I hope that I can have her rank changed by having her arrive here? :D Also, I'm hoping for a fighting rank for her...]