Gone. Gone.

Through the tears that blind her, and through the fear that grips her, Isoke is angry. In fact, she is raging. The stallion who had saved her from Dorian, that horrible terrible monster, has done a runner before she so much as had a chance to speak to him on his own. She can't help but think of how she stood up for him to Morgan, how she made excuses in an attempt to legitimize his aloof and unsociable behavior, but now she sees just how pointless it had all been.

The next time she sees him, if she sees him again, she'll be sure to give him a piece of her mind.

Of course, it is not only for her own sake that she is angry: for her father's sake, as well. The Dragon had taken refuge in the harbor after having his home stolen from beneath his feet, and this had been perhaps the happiest moment of Isoke's life, for she had looked forward to living alongside her sire, the stallion she had been estranged from for most of her young life, as well as that of her new friends in the harbor, and Anawar, her savior.

She had pictured such a blissful time. And mercilessly, that image had been shattered like a hammer on glass.

She had run the moment she had caught the stench of the foreign stallion, this 'Midas': the one who had taken over the only real home she'd known in her entire life. He might have been kind for all she knew - he might have been quite a catch if she had stayed to find out - but her survival instincts prevailed. She needed to move on.

She has intended to leave Atlantis and return to the crossing, where she will stay until she figures out what she will do next. She is tired from fleeing, however, and thirsty from crying for so long. The black fur beneath her eyes is caked and wet, and her head hangs low as she wanders, searching for a bite to eat amid the trees inland. Everything is lush and green here, ripe for the taking, and yet her stomach turns at the thought of eating any of it. She is too worried about what will happen to herself as well as her sire.

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