She'd given up on determining what she was going to do with herself for the time being and succumbed to just simply being a wanderer. She was immortal after all and there wasn't anything she could do now that she couldn't do later. And so, here she finds herself wandering lazily in and out of the Meadow. She had spent the last several weeks poking around the nearby forest, but had done little else. Sometimes her thoughts while she wandered slipped back towards her past. There had been many happy moments in her life (many of them involved the Jungle she used to call home), but there had been some horrors there as well. Her capture by the Chamber where she was subsequently beaten, raped and nearly starved to death topped the top of her list and the next down was watching her father be murdered by a strange stallion. It was her own father's death that had granted her immortality, so she more than anybody should realize that immortality means little in this land.

For the first time in years, she's been a horse for more than a small handful of hours. She much preferred her solitary life as a quetzal. It allowed her to eavesdrop on small conversations here and there while, for the most part, blending in with the scenery. But being homeless meant she had little interactions with others and absolutely no friends - a life she did not want to live at all.

As she walks, her eyes are drawn to a bright white stallion with golden points. It really wasn't his color that pulled him apart from the others, for there were hundreds of strangely colored creatures living in Beqanna, but something about his demeanor attracted the paint mare. Her tail flicks hesitantly across her legs before she starts towards him, coming to a stop a few feet away and offering a gentle nicker of greeting before closing the gap between them.

"Greetings. Name's Malka," she said with a soft bob of her head. She doesn't say anything else for she's not really sure what else to offer. She had no homeland anymore and no fancy titles to go after her name. She was just simply "Malka" now. It was a strange thing to finally put into context, but it was a fact of her new life and until she did something about it, it wasn't going to change.

Malka

Immortal, Quetzal-shifting
Mare of nowhere

It does not take him long to reply with a name and her ears flick forward gently as he speaks. They pin back slightly as she thinks if she's met him before, but not being able to place him to anything in particular, she swishes her tail and returns her ears to his attention.

He sighs and looks out over the meadow behind her and she let her own gaze drift to follow his. There was nothing particularly interesting back there - just more horses wondering about. The birthing season was coming to an end and so there were a spattering of gangly foals following after their mothers, but for the most part it was the normal meadow sight. His words come again and she breaks her gaze from the others and focuses on him again. "You could definitely say that," she said with a chuckle. At one point in her life, she would not have lived as long as she had. She should've been dead quite a few years ago, but it was her estranged father's murder that had gifted her immortality - and it was definitely a double edged sword. She had watched many of her best friends and family members pass on while she continued on as if she was still very much in her prime. Kagerou, Echion, Scorch and more.

The white man continues on and Malka slowly shakes her head. "No, not always. At one point in time, I called the Jungle my home, but she long ago succumbed to a monarchy I cannot support," she says. It was Scorch's demise and Lagertha's ascent to the throne that had made Malka not return to the Jungle. She'd always had a touch of wanderer in her, but had decided that she wouldn't go 'home' until it changed. Malka and Lagertha had been at ends the last few times Malka had resided in the Jungle - with the majority of issues stemming from Lag's mistrust of Malka's wanderings and Malka's own mistrust at Lag's desire for power. She did not want to go further into detail with the stallion, but she was sure that he would understand. Even though she loved the Jungle with every fiber of her being, she could not support it in her current state - for one could not easily serve the land they lived in while loathing the one who led it.

"What about yourself?" she asks casually. She could tell just from his easy assumptions about her that he too knew a thing or two about wandering and the ins and outs of the kingdoms. Her ears continue to flicker on top of her head as the caught rushed whispers of the other conversations going on around them, but they always came back around to the stallion before her.

Malka

Immortal, Quetzal-shifting
Mare of nowhere