There was darkness everywhere. Of course, there had been a certain blackness before- in the hearts of greedy horses, in the minds of those tainted by shadow, in the familiarity of the night sky. Andromeda knew this; she was not naive to the way the world look, even if she preferred to see the best in the citizens of Helovia, no matter how twisted nor corrupted they might be. But now, the darkness had spilled over the entire world, black oil dripping onto the relatively clean white tablecloth, hellish and sickly. It was a disease, eating at the people, a creator of chaos and the bringer of paranoia and terrible fear.

It had taken a certain amount of time until Andromeda gathered up the dregs of her courage and urged herself northern-bound, fearful of accidentally deserting Helovia by exiting through the mountain passes. She was unused to the Threshold, not knowing it nearly as well as a few who always stayed in the beginnings of a new world, ready to recruit. Still she braved it, her compassionate heart twisting as she imagined travelers lost and wrapped in the uncomfortable, unkind cocoon of deep blackness. The trip had taken many days, partly for she preferred traveling by the rugged paths glinting with golden lamps, partly because she feared flying, with would have saved many days. Altogether, Helovia was no longer the rich place of wonders and fantasies it had once been. Now it was dark and cold and damp; the world beginning to die, and deserted by the divine lords and ladies who kept it running. The batteries needed replacing, but there were no electricians, so to speak.

Even with her coat of black feathers, the cold bit at her incessantly. Grass was scarce as well, much of it dead, lost of the precious nutrients that helped keep coats glossy and flanks full. It was never easy, winter- but it had never been this hard. Despite being a member of a herdland, her rips and hips jutted from her body alarmingly- or rather, the fat and muscle slowly stripped from her voluptuous form, leaving a starved horse in it's place. She could only imagine the wretched state of outcasts.

Andromeda grew closer to her destination, the scents of strangers, vagabonds, and herdlanders blending together in a dizzying way. She sunk deep in the snow, floundering through it like a foal through long grass, feeling ill at how small and... alone she was.

It was then that she scented him, the scent reminding her of earth and summer sun, and for a moment she paused and just drank it in voraciously, loving the reminder that the winter would surely not last forever. One day, the gods would come back, she was sure of it. Something must have stolen them away- they would not abandon her and her family for some petty reason. Gods were gods; their ways were unfathomable and no mortal could hope to understand their enlightened reasonings. That's what she told herself, repeating it, soothing the frayed nerves that murmured the worse was still to come. They would come back, and they would return the world to it's proper way of working.

Here and there she caught a glimpse of skin, from the dim light of the lantern trees, yet it was impossible to decide precisely what features graced him.

Andromeda considered her words for a moment, letting them roll about inside her head. She didn't wish to force membership onto a stallion, and she certainly didn't want to invite a stranger into the herd, not knowing who he was or how he acted. "I'm Andromeda, of a land of red sand, green grass, and sky blue water. This place was not always of darkness, even if it lay in some's hearts," she paused; "I'm sorry, this is such a dismal greeting to a traveler."