Frost was beginning to dust over Anthe, a kiss of fine crystals growing along the edges of her feathers and shimmering against the void of her hair. She sighed, the action visible in the arctic air. Step by painful step, the young mare picked her way between the bare trees, occasionally casting a glance skyward only to be met with the promise of more snow from heavy-bellied clouds. The forest was eerily quiet, every living thing having had the sense to seek shelter in the warmth and sleep the cold away (every living thing except her, the eternally underprepared). She stopped frequently, every joint in her body having gone numb and stiff from overuse and improper care. The tree nearest her side helped to hold her up and Anthe only pulled her wings tighter around her body, peering out carefully into the bitter white world.

As it happened, it became apparent that Anthe was not the only creature who lacked the sense to seek out solace somewhere warmer. He landed near her and she turned, shouldering off of the tree to stand stiffly braced in front of him. The look of him was brilliant and Anthe could feel her curiosity stretch from its slumber in her mind as she ran her gaze over every inch of him. He was large and sightly (though, in respect to delicate stature, most things were considered ‘large’ on the size scale). He also might have been handsome, but Anthe had never been particularly attracted by one’s looks, so she couldn’t have been completely certain. He spoke and she stood there, blinking at him dumbly as she tried to catch up. “Helovia.” Well that solved one mystery, although Anthe supposed that knowing the name of where she’d landed didn’t really make much of a difference until she’d thoroughly learned about it.

Bringing her icy eyes up to meet his fiery ones, she let her name slip simply from her lips. “I’m Anthe.” …Of a nameless, faceless place far far away from here. Her inner voice was slightly cynical and she couldn’t help but laugh once, to herself. That was a story she was not yet ready to tell and should Hector ask her (which she hoped he didn’t), she would casually deflect his curiosity like she’d done so many times in the past. Slowly she inched closer to the larger stallion, her leaden feet dragging across the frosty ground as bright interest sparkled in her eyes. “You said you’re from a place called…The Dragon’s Throat? That sounds like a land worth exploring if I’ve ever heard one, could you tell me about it?” She paused, casting her gaze across the somber, frost-covered forest under the sullen, gray sky. “I do hope it’s warmer than it is here.” She paused then, nose wrinkled at the cloud of steam her words had caused to form in front of her face. Exhaustion still dragged on every muscle in Anthe’s body, but bright curiosity had flooded her veins, tiding over the weariness and holding it off yet again.

Anthe supposed that the stallion had entrapped her attention the second he’d uttered mention of the sea. Instantly, she was alert and straightening herself up despite the obvious tiredness that had stiffened her legs. Swiveling aimlessly atop her head, at the soft single syllable, her ears fell forward, straining as though they could almost hear the roar of crashing waves. She inched closer, making baby steps in the frosty ground. In the back of her mind she knew that she was probably crossing a line of etiquette between near-strangers, but Anthe could not pay mind to niceties and manners. Hector’s words had entranced her and for a moment she was lost, white lids closing over her seaglass eyes as she imagined the Dragon’s Throat. In her mind’s eye she could see golden sands stretching onward, glimmering with the shimmer of heat on the horizon until they reached the sea, glittering like a sapphire jewel beneath the relentless sun. She shuddered, a deep yearning opening up in her soul, aching painfully for the familiar ocean.

“It sounds beautiful.” Her voice sounded faraway as if her consciousness was somewhere that was not her body. Reopening her eyes, Anthe reclaimed what little pieces of politeness her parents had instilled in her. She smiled at the copper stallion, lifting her chin to gaze up into his burning eyes. “Forgive me. I’m not from here and until you showed up, I wasn’t really sure where here even was.” Helovia, she remembered, was what he’d called this place. She let the name idly roll around her mind as she listened to Hector speak of his Dragon’s Throat. We’re a family he’d said and the pale mare swallowed instinctively, her tail twitching across the ground in an irregular, nervous pattern. Anthe hadn’t had a family in years and she’d spent just as long trying to bury the memory that they’d even existed in an effort to smother the guilt that arose with the thought of them. The offer to have another put her on edge and she could feel bitter regret snaking its way into her chest, tightening it painfully. “I…” She paused, a frown gracing her ivory lips as regret and curiosity battled one another in her mind. She’d been born with a gypsy soul – created to adventure endlessly and never settle. It was possible that she’d break this family the same way she’d broken her last, but the chance to see the ocean and to learn about this new and strange continent made her heart race with excitement and even as a wave of dread threatened to consume her, she heard the words leave her mouth and seal her fate. “I’d love the chance to see your land, Hector.” Anthe told herself that it was the exhaustion and the cold that had weakened her resolve, but she couldn’t bother to convince herself. “However, I want to stress now that I know nothing about this place you call Helovia and I don’t wish to impose upon you or your herd. I’m not really sure what I could contribute to your family…” Something in her wanted him to retract his offer, but Anthe knew he wouldn’t and her attempts to dissuade him were half-hearted at best.

Anthe decided that she liked Hector. He was understanding and gentle and above all else, he did not interrogate her relentlessly although she could see a thousand unasked questions in his gaze. Perhaps in time she would share a bit of herself with him. She could tell him about the thing she’d seen outside Helovia and all the different stories she’d heard, passed down from numerous encounters. She knew, deep down, that those probably weren’t the answers he wanted and like everyone before him, there would come a day when he would ask about her home and her family and about why she’d ended up in his home. And just like everyone else before him, his questions would be greeted with silence and a diversion and that was just the endless cycle in which Anthe’s life revolved. Now, however, was not the time to dwell on the inevitable future and instead, she offered the big copper stallion a genuinely grateful smile. Of course she wasn’t the first to move through these woods – she wouldn’t be the last, either – and it came to her attention that she’d managed to land in the mouth of Helovia. The frostbitten forests seemed to be a kind of gate between this land and the wide open space she’d flown across to get here, so she supposed that Hector and his people were used to confused foreigners stumbling around without a sense of direction or an ounce of knowledge about where they’d just arrived.

Her hybrid companion began speaking again, his words an attempt to soothe the doubt that creased across her pale brow. She listened, onyx ears twitching as her gaze wandered, searching the forest for an answer that did not appear. She could not tell Hector that she wasn’t so much afraid that she’d not contribute (she did, after all, have a keen aptitude for learning), but that she didn’t trust herself to stay. She could not tell him that the very idea of family terrified her because she’d so willingly abandoned the mother and father that had brought her into this world. She couldn’t even begin to explain just how tempting the idea of this new, foreign continent was that she wanted to see all of it. There were no words that could describe the aching feeling of regret that made her chest feel weighted. Even as the stallion listed off all of the other places she could go to make her home (seemingly mistaking her hesitation for disinterest in the Throat), Anthe could only force her gaze back upon him and will him silently to understand that this was something far beyond what he could have imagined. “I thank you for your concern, Hector; however, you need not worry. I would be greatly honored if you would escort me to your home in the Dragon’s Throat.” Oh how Anthe wanted to see the sea again. Perhaps it would help clear her mind.

She straightened, shifting her wings and shuddering at a sudden gust of wintry air. She hoped what Hector said was true and that the Dragon’s Throat would prove to boast a warmer climate than this. Sighing, she brushed her gaze across his features, another soft breeze brushing her long forelock from her face. “Perhaps you could give me a crash course on all things Helovian on the way there?” She tried to force a light tone into her voice, hoping that she succeeded in fooling Hector with her false excitement. Dread, instead, had settled like a heavy rock at this pit of her stomach and Anthe found herself worrying that if they didn’t leave soon, she’d bow out altogether.