Rare is the snow that falls in a desert. Even in a land encased by snow, the Dragon's Throat stands resilient against Father Winter, the pride jewel in the crown of the Sun God. I have only grown accustomed to the lack of precipitation, the low humidity, and the heats of midday summer. I am used to barren homes, having claimed a throne once before in the crimson towers of Isilme, fallen and overgrown now, if they even still existed. My apocalypse for my home was not as severe as the one Onni whispers of during the night, when she seeks my side like a filly not yet weaned. I wonder what can take a brave heart away from the valiant chest, but I feel I may be better off not knowing. I know one thing - that I am proud of my daughter.

As of now, my dark eyes fall upon the crimson sands of my home, flying over the crystalline white blanket that touches most of all Helovia. I am returning home after scouting for my missing members, coming up empty handed. My loose borders likely are responsible for the vacancies I find, for I have never been one to trap my family behind iron bars; if anything, I gave them a shove from my side. Still, it is rare for a warrior of mine to have gone missing. Note has long been absent, even leaving behind a lover and children. Another set of newer faces, Africa and Sinhue, are also gone. I am quick to jump to conclusions that the Basin has been up to their schemes once more, but that has yet to be made clear.

If I do find that my family has once again fell in their clutches, Psyche will not be let off as easily as before. My loss against her will not marr my confidence but fuel my passions more. Maybe this makes me foolish, but certainly my defeat against Adalwulf never stopped my will. That bitch will heed my words, or she will choke on them.

Still, my empty-handed search has left me weary, and I suck in air rather downcast, eyes scanning my home for the family I have claimed in my heart. I would be lying if I said that leadership was not slowly wearing down my spirit, but I have always been resilient, much like the home I was coming back to. Below, another resilient soul, though I was uncertain how much of it still remained. Upon his return, Valentine had been disoriented and lost. Now, he seemed more cognizant, but I am still worried for his well being.

Taking long circles below, it is not until I am close to the red sand that I notice the small figure of a filly and adoring crimson eyes upon her. My hooves touch down with a plume of chilled dirt, my wings folding to my sides immediately as I trot toward the side of my herdmate and newest Artisan. "Valentine," I say, my voice calm yet tired. "Well met."

"These are troubling times," I say with a sad tone. My long standing friendship with Mirage had tied our homes together; any member of the World's Edge rested in my heart as family, no less than my own kin here. I lower my head for a moment of pure silence, the wind around me growing still as I stand within my own, stolid world. The loss of not one soul but two at the hands of the Basin - Psyche had gone too far.

My heart beats slowly, and I take a deep breath finally and raise my eyes to meet Valentine. I nod once, remembering the rest of his words now, but still feeling numb on the periphery of my senses. There was little reassurance I could offer to him. The Basin's numbers only seemed to swell, though I had no idea how many horned heads fell under Psyche. Meanwhile, the desert seemed to empty. Strange, considering the desert was a nice retreat from the snow-laden land of Helovia this season. Regardless, we may have stronger hearts than the black, decayed muscle in the chest of the Lady of the North, but pure brawn can outweigh even the deepest beating heart if numbers fall ill. Should they attempt to bring their violence to my sands, I do not believe I would be able to stop them.

I offer a small smile, melancholy lines still present around its edges. "I am proud of you, brother, giving aid to our kin in their times of need." By standing with the World's Edge, we were stronger, yet I feared for the future of my loved ones.

Thinking back to the question posed by my herdmate, I sigh heavily. "Upon your arrival in my lands, you pleaded a spot here to begin a new life. You spoke of a group of racists harbored in the Basin, who sought to murder all races aside from unicorns," my voice is even, but relatively quiet. I did not wish to spook the child who stood close by. Life would force her to grow up soon enough, without the aid of harsh reality being slammed into her ears. Evils were abundant past the sunny borders of the Throat. She would learn this soon enough.

"My guess is Psyche did not wish me to know of the racists you mentioned."