Once upon a time, there had been a ghost with red eyes.

Once upon a time, a ghost with red eyes brought a mare to the forest and released her vengeful spirit on the world that had never been ready for him. Would it be ready for her?

She moves with well practiced silence despite the foreignness of the woods she had found herself in. It is late in the night and only some small nocturnal creatures seem to be stirring in the undergrowth. She is unbothered by the oppressive darkness or the light drizzle of rain that begins to mist against her mahogany dappled fur. The jaguar mare stalks through the night as if she belongs here, has always belonged here, and peers through her long flaxen forelock through cold granite eyes. A rustling from her left draws her attention and when she turns her pretty head, those same eyes look more like storm clouds and there is a faint simper on her dark lips as she calls out in a gentle sweet voice. “Is someone there?” It was better to play the damsel in distress first then show her hand on the first draw, part of her training that is embedded in every fiber of her being, carved into her bones, thrumming in her blood.

If only time could be rewritten.

In a different world, she could have had a chance for a normal life. A fulfilling one with all the bells and whistles like love, friendships, and happiness. In a different world, perhaps she would have been given a different name.

If only time could be rewritten.
And yet it cannot.

A mare steps from the shadows, golden and pretty, revealing herself in the filtered moonlight that breaks through the trees. In response, she lies with a lovely little laugh. "Oh, you startled me!” as she glances away as if embarrassed of which she isn’t in the least. In the few seconds that they speak, she is already deep in observation. The coyness lingering in the strangers smile that she catches from the corner of her gray eye, the lack of any obvious signs of magic. It doesn’t mean the other would be untraited. Like her Uncle, this one might also have tricks hidden up her sleeves. She comes away with the notion to proceed carefully until she can uncover more about where she is and who exactly she had come across in the middle of the night.

Her Uncle had taught her about all the different magics in the world he had experienced or learned about. It had always been something he had been passionate for, discovering how magic worked. He had always liked to see if he could find the source of it in a body, an unorthodox approach that very few approved of. It didn’t entice her the way it enticed him but that never seemed to bother him. That wasn’t her purpose after all.

The liver colored mare is careful to keep her mind blank and her demeanor calm as she looks back to the blue eyes of the unknown mare, her own pretty smile never faltering. "I’m new here.” She says, a partial lie and partial truth. She had not been seen in these lands since before the Reckoning and the way Beqanna had restructured itself geographically did make it new to her. "I’m Indi.” She gives the agreed upon alias easily, it rolls off her tongue as if she had said it a million times, as if that truly was her name. "Could you escort me? I think I've gotten turned around.”

Despite the soft words murmured to her (meant to soothe where no balm is needed) and the relieved smile that she forces to her mouth in response, she is never far from suspicious caution. It would be unwise, even though the golden stranger had so far been nothing but kind.

It doesn’t take her long to realize her instincts have been absolutely correct.

The sudden sharpness in her smile. The fact that, despite her own introduction, the palomino gives no name in return.

She feels a prickling of anticipation and forces herself to keep her features schooled in uncertain innocence even as the corners of her lips desire to twist into something wolfish and knowing. “Luckily my journey here was uneventful.” She says with that same pretty laugh as the woman comes close enough that she can truly see what a beauty she is. Thinking back on that coy smile that had changed to something serrated… She wonders if perhaps they have something in common. Vinny knew how to use sex like a weapon as well.

The mare brushes past her and she allows this, turning to follow her and noting that she was heading deeper in the forest instead of out of it. She is not stupid, her Uncle hadn’t kept her in the dark on what lurked there. The jaguar mare still recalls the silvery criss cross scars that marked his alabaster spine… When he wasn’t skeletal of course. Still, she doesn’t hesitate in falling in step behind her. Whatever trick was up this woman’s sleeve, of this she is certain now, she’s curious if it might benefit her in the long run. There was no point in wasting the opportunity.

"Not running, no.” She admits truthfully and there is a glint for just a moment in her stormy eyes. Not running. Hunting. For a moment things are quiet besides the muffled sound of hooves against the forest floor as she thinks and then decides to try a different approach. "I actually lived in Beqanna, a very long time ago.” She says quietly from behind her, the gray of her eyes carefully watching the soft sway of Aela’s hips. "Things have changed quite a bit since then, I don’t remember this forest being here.” She says, putting an infliction in her last word as if she was nervous and forcing a small shudder across her shoulders as she moves to the mare’s side. Just enough for her to see it if she was to look out of the corner of her bright blue eye.

Surprisingly she shares the golden woman’s sentiments. It had been disappointing but expected. Not many were willing to approach you, prey or predator, when escorted by a living skeletal nightmare who wouldn’t think twice about delving into your hearts desire and using it to destroy you. To be honest, just being in the company of another that wasn’t him was thrilling. Her run-ins with strangers were few and far between since she had been drawn beneath her Uncle’s wing. Her interactions were chosen specifically by him for the purpose of her training. None of them still lived to speak of it.

Her change in tactic seems to work as Aela slows her pace to look over at her with curiosity. It’s even better than what she had expected, the other providing information without her needing to coax it from her. She knew some of what had happened after the Reckoning thanks to her mentor, enough to pass through this new world of Beqanna without appearing like a complete idiot. She knew the name of the lands that had risen when the ones she had known had fallen. She knew, specifically, about the South as that was where her targets had last been seen. As for current political standings, this was information she would have to collect herself.

The Eclipse sparks her interest and she is about to inquiry more about it until Aela proceeds with unwelcome news. A flash of anger sparks like lightning in the storm-gray iris’s but she is quick to look away as if overwhelmed by such things. Unaware of course that her new companion will be able to see it regardless if she’s looking at her or not. “How terrible." She breathes out, not meaning it at all and already wondering if what she seeked had yet again been stolen from her.

As the palomino asks what she recalls, the jaguar mare looks at her as if thinking. And she is... But not of what she last remembered of this place. Instead she’s wondering why she suddenly feels curious, eager even, to share something with her. It seems out of place with her current objectives. It doesn’t feel like it’s her own. It makes her grin suddenly at the other, that curiosity now directed at her. “It was a very long time ago.” She says with a shrug of her slender spotted shoulder, the memories of her life before the Reckoning hazy at best. She recalls living in the meadow (one of the few places that hadn’t been lost or rebuilt into something new) where she had been born. She recalls the jungle her mother and little sister had ruled, the few times she had visited. Tantalize had wanted her to become an Amazon too and perhaps she would have done well there beneath that structure. She had the aptitude for it. She could have been great. But Vindictive cared little for rules and discipline and shared her Uncle’s darker tastes for chaos.

"This forest wasn’t here though.” She says, glancing at the thick tree canopy with open interest. “You said a kingdom fell to the sea… How?” She easily redirects the conversation from herself back to what she truly wants to know, determined to pry as much information from her as she can just as she directs that curiosity into discovering what exactly was walking alongside her.

It’s a shame Aela doesn’t mention Taiga. Now that is a subject she knows well despite never seeing the woods of mist for herself. It was one of her Uncle’s favorite stories, one he would tell with malicious glee. How he had snatched the forest with his band of marauder’s and shaken Beqanna to its core to the point where the fairies rebelled and Carnage himself had sent his own minions to sink the land. It had been meant to be a punishment but the White Wolf had never been upset, only amused. It had done little to stop his plans.

The further into the forest they go, the colder it becomes. She shivers slightly against the chill and doesn’t bother to hide the way it shudders across her dappled shoulders. Let her companion think her scared, it served her purpose after all. The golden beauty speaks of the Forest being here for as long as she can remember and the gray of her eyes catch that lift in her smile. It wouldn’t surprise her, if this one was an Immortal. Time had always been tricky here, even for those not blessed with the gift (or the curse) of Immortality. The fact that Tantalize had lived as long as she had was testament to that.

The golden stranger directs the conversation towards Pangea and Carnage and she catches the others eye, sensing something in the question that’s playfully thrown at her. Pangea is not a land she knows too much of beyond the fact that Carnage had a hand in its creation. Of the Dark God himself, she is familiar but not on a personal level. Her grandfather had been General to the Valley, Carnage’s old kingdom, but not when he had ruled it. She had been there a few times when she had visited him, Grandfather Cross. An interesting man who had fathered both her mother and her Uncle. Strange, how different they were and yet still cut from the same cloth.

Her Uncle held little interest in the workings of Gods despite his fascination with Beqanna’s magic. As for herself, she found the stories of Carnage interesting enough but like the White Wolf she cared little for tales and omipresent creators. If anything, according to him, they simply stood in the way but at times they could be useful. It’s why he had flung Carnage a tidbit every now and then like the mare he had told her about, Minette. Better to stay on their good side, better to keep them distracted.

“Of course.” She says and makes sure to widen the whites of her eyes, allowing the gray to become thoughtful and worried. Still playing the damsel in distress, as if expecting the Dark God himself to be around the bend. “That is a name I have not heard in awhile.” She breathes out her lie and casts an uncertain glance to her guide. “Is he still around?”