Winter had settled coldly on the Islands, and Bane felt more alive with every step she took. It was fantastic. She was fantastic. She’d always been this way, and the wild one held more boldness in every stride. Not quite a run, but something longer and more excited as she found her way to the Peak. Home. Home for real. The wild eyed wanderer had come home, at long last, and she was going to make her mark on this place. Maybe she was too old to have feelings like this, but the champagne mare’s head tossed and her shoulders rolled and she was ready. Ready and willing and god be damned excited.

Her voice is a knife through the cold morning. Sun shone brightly off the snow that had accumulated in places, but there’s something ever so brilliant in her tone of voice. ”Anyone still livin’ here?” It’s as loud as she can muster, resonating from somewhere deep inside her chest cavity. Bane is loud. Anath never had to be, everyone listened to her regardless. In order to get yourself heard over that racket, you had to figure something out. Bane knew. Bane always knew. It was brilliant, and she was brilliant, and she was filled with something else today. Something far more lovely.

She makes her way a bit farther up the Peak and looks out. How beautiful a place this was. How good it felt to be home. Bane was once more alive.