She rather likes the quiet forest at dawn, though today she had meant to leave before the birdsong awakened the equines in attendance. Djinni had lingered too long, she realizes as the sound of voices reach her dark ears; everyone is waking up.

The layers of leaves soften the heavy thud of her feathered hooves, and the light dapples the already spotted blanket that spreads across her hips and hindquarters. When she steps around a broad trunk beside the pied stallion and the black mare, Djinni does so looking identical to a long-absent mare (and nothing like her true self) .

She's always been the best at hide-and-go-seek

"Hello there," She says in greeting, smiling at them both with the ease of a young woman raised in a land of plenty by parents that adored her. "I'm Raene. What brings you both out to the Forest so early?"

She shifts her weight, clearly at ease. Her gold-flecked eyes flick from one horse to the other, noting the small stature of the black mare and the interesting pattern of white on the bay stallion. She'd rather like to imitate it, but her appearance does not falter.

The small mare doesn't answer the stallion's inquiry as to her name, but Djinni isn't sure if she's left it out purposefully or if she'd simply been distracted by her Djinni's arrival. Given the tone of the answers she does give, Djinni suspects it had not been accidental in the slightest.

The apploosa mares gives a little nod of agreement - yes, living in the Forest would mean being here all hours of the day and night. She can't imagine having the whole of the new Beqanna to explore and still choosing so stay in the age-old trees. Well, she supposes, to each their own.

When the pied stallion says that he is recently returned, Djinni turns her grey eyes on him curiously. He must have been absent during the Reckoning, she realizes. He is fortunate; at least there is a Beqanna to return to.

“I suppose not,” she says in response to his question about the rarity of early risers, “Though I’ve never been here myself this early, so I can’t say for sure.” She could leave it at that, but she is curious and so continues to speak. “You said you were continuing your journey? Where are you going?”

The mention of the Chamber causes her to still for a moment, the word conjuring up memories. They don’t talk about the Chamber, Walter and Djinni. There is something in the way that the palomino stallion eyes the treeless horizon that keeps the name out of Djinni’s mouth for fear of…something. Something she’d rather not name.

“It’s gone.” She says when she’s gathered her thoughts about her. It feels like an age has passed, but it’s been no more than a handful of seconds between Dagro’s words and her reply. “All of the old kingdoms are. Only the commons lands remain – the rest of Beqanna has been reshaped around us.” She gestures toward the eastern horizon with her muzzle. It no longer disappears into the the Desert; instead distant volcanoes belch smoke and fill the air with clouds. She thinks of telling him of Walter, of another man that had called the Chamber home, but Raene does not know Walter.

Instead she looks down to the smaller mare. Pandorica – she’s seen fit to share her name now – had been equally curious about what brought Dagro to the meadow. That shouldn’t be surprising for a mare that lives in the Meadow, but has she always?

“Have you always lived in the Meadow?” She asks curiously, “Did you live here before the Reckoning?” She’s not unaccustomed to life as a vagrant herself, but with the endless expanse of new lands to explore she can’t imagine choosing to stay here these days.