Wayra’s stomach did little flips, and she tried to keep the awkward butterflies from making their way onto her face. She was far, far too old for this, and she knew it well enough. There were lines that shouldn't be crossed, and this was certainly one of them. But she just couldn’t help it.
Wayra assured herself that she wasn’t the first filly to follow her sire around and probably wouldn’t be the last. What else was she going to do? She did, however, wish he hadn’t chosen the Chamber. She’d heard stories about this place, and most of them were not good. But, it was this or the Field, and there was no way she was going there.
No, she certainly did not want to be in the Field. Everyone was rather randy this time of year. It wouldn’t due for her to be set upon by some stallion and his uncontrollable urges. Wayra quickly stopped that train of thought. Thinking like that would do her no good.
Yet, as Wayra made her way through the trees, she couldn’t help but wonder if she shouldn’t have taken her chances, uncontrollable urges or not. There was mist everywhere so much so that she didn’t know if she was going in the right direction. Certainly someone would find her, should she get lost. Certainly someone must know how to get to the Chamber, or how to get out of it if entrance was not to be had. They would probably take one look at her, a coltish little mare whose tail wasn’t fully grown in, and laugh until they were sick. Three years of age and she still had little tufts of baby fur. Wayra made a face. It was really quite embarrassing.
She stumbled along for a few more agonizing minutes until the mist began to clear. Not entirely, but enough so that she could find her way. It was not as bad as she had originally thought. The pine trees gave way to something like a meadow. She felt her heart clench slightly. She had grown up in the Meadow. Were it not for the passing of time she would still be there. She cast her eyes around then did a double take.
Is that a burning tree?
Wayra’s expression turned pained. Yes, she definitely should have taken her chances with the randy stallions. Surely they could be discouraged. Her scraggly tail would probably be enough to turn away all but the most determined. An eternally burning tree, however, was a problem Wayra was not prepared to overcome. She looked at it for a long time, trying to keep a look of distress from her face. She was a guest here after all.
Wayra
not all who wander are lost