She feels a comfort in the forest - the camouflage of the trees, just returning to their natural colors, the crunch of the fallen leaves and brush beneath her pawed feet. She’s comfortable anywhere, really, but the forest feels like the closest place to a home. It’s the only place she can sleep.
She yawns, stretching, all sharp teeth and thick, red fur — and then, the earth shakes. It doesn’t collapse and reform like the reckoning — which Siona wouldn’t remember, anyway — merely shakes and then resettles. She freezes, listening to the fairies’ warning. They tell Beqanna of the new lands, safe from the plague, but the words are meaningless to her — Siona doesn’t know where anything is besides Tephra, where she lived years ago. She watches as people start to flee the forest in every direction, but she only knows of one place to go.
So she heads west. To Tephra.
She crosses through Loess first; hilly and beautifully green, with freshwater springs that allow her to rest and quench her thirst. It’s pleasant enough here, she thinks, but too bare. There is nowhere to hide.
Next is Sylva, marked by its colors: reds, oranges, yellows. She pauses here, taking in the forest, and contemplates stopping here despite it not being safe from the sickness. It doesn’t feel right, somehow — sick, but not only with the plague. Sick with darkness. It’s an unsettling feeling.
She moves on.
Siona crosses the Tephran border, breathing in the ash and sulphur that cover the land. It feels familiar here: the flowing lava, trees and assorted greenery, the heat. It brings back memories of her only friend, Wishbone — the fox-girl and the little bay filly used to play tag between the rivers of lava, free of worries or danger until the bay filly was chosen to move to Nerine and became queen. Instead of following her friend, Siona chose to roam, off by herself. It was what she was used to, anyway.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees an island off the north coast. She moves through Tephra, then, entranced by the island — from afar she can only make out its white beaches and thick clusters of trees. Before she realizes it, she’s in the water, swimming to shore. Siona wonders how the normal horses fair on their trip to the islands — her paws are better suited for the swim than hooves, but her large, fluffy tail slows her down a bit.
As she reaches the shore, she looks around while attempting to shake herself dry (even though she loved to swim, she hated the side effect: being wet). Exhausted from her trip, she makes her way inland, trying to find a place to rest in her new home.
She yawns, stretching, all sharp teeth and thick, red fur — and then, the earth shakes. It doesn’t collapse and reform like the reckoning — which Siona wouldn’t remember, anyway — merely shakes and then resettles. She freezes, listening to the fairies’ warning. They tell Beqanna of the new lands, safe from the plague, but the words are meaningless to her — Siona doesn’t know where anything is besides Tephra, where she lived years ago. She watches as people start to flee the forest in every direction, but she only knows of one place to go.
So she heads west. To Tephra.
She crosses through Loess first; hilly and beautifully green, with freshwater springs that allow her to rest and quench her thirst. It’s pleasant enough here, she thinks, but too bare. There is nowhere to hide.
Next is Sylva, marked by its colors: reds, oranges, yellows. She pauses here, taking in the forest, and contemplates stopping here despite it not being safe from the sickness. It doesn’t feel right, somehow — sick, but not only with the plague. Sick with darkness. It’s an unsettling feeling.
She moves on.
Siona crosses the Tephran border, breathing in the ash and sulphur that cover the land. It feels familiar here: the flowing lava, trees and assorted greenery, the heat. It brings back memories of her only friend, Wishbone — the fox-girl and the little bay filly used to play tag between the rivers of lava, free of worries or danger until the bay filly was chosen to move to Nerine and became queen. Instead of following her friend, Siona chose to roam, off by herself. It was what she was used to, anyway.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees an island off the north coast. She moves through Tephra, then, entranced by the island — from afar she can only make out its white beaches and thick clusters of trees. Before she realizes it, she’s in the water, swimming to shore. Siona wonders how the normal horses fair on their trip to the islands — her paws are better suited for the swim than hooves, but her large, fluffy tail slows her down a bit.
As she reaches the shore, she looks around while attempting to shake herself dry (even though she loved to swim, she hated the side effect: being wet). Exhausted from her trip, she makes her way inland, trying to find a place to rest in her new home.
@[SamShine] @[Toli] or anyone welcome!
also @[The Plague] please infect her even though she's in a safe land <3
please tag siona in all replies.
