a new world hangs outside the window
beautiful and strange
it must be I've fallen awake
I must be

When the dark, stout mare finally left the shores of Tinuvel behind, she said good riddance. The months she spent in the Bay had been quite the life lesson. There she saw first hand just how ugly her kind could be. Wasp had never met this Warsaw in the flesh, but she saw the havoc he wrecked firsthand as he forced Liland and his herd out of their home. And then there was Requiem, a handsome, boyish young stallion who seemed utterly mindless. It was as if his father - this same Warsaw fellow - had beat his own thoughts out of him. Wasp couldn't help but feel a tug at her heartstrings when she thought of the young stud now. She felt sorry for him, holed up in his post in the Bay all alone, because his sire told him too.

But she knew better than to try to help him. Just because she caught Requiem in a weak and vulnerable moment didn't mean he was trustworthy or any less dangerous than his father. So she took to the the sea as planned, with some life logged and with a somewhat more skeptical eye for what lay ahead.

The hazy island of Atlantis loomed in view and she studied it warily as her tiring legs cut through the icy waters in winter. It wasn't the smartest time to be traveling, but luckily her build and her northern blood made her more prepared than most. The lessons from Bozena and Macabre echoed in her head as she washed up onto the sandy shore, surprisingly relieved to find the climate here much warmer and more humid than Tinuvel. Her nostrils flared as her soaking black tail slapped against the side of her haunches with a dull thwack. Someone lived here, she mused, as she breathed in a rich masculine scent. Her amber eyes scanned the jungle laid out in the distance. She licked the salt from her lips, her dry mouth salivating at the thought of fresh water. And with a heavy sigh, the warrior of the Peak trudged on, toward the treeline, cautious and not necessarily optimistic.

This journey was turning out to be much more lonesome than she had anticipated. While she enjoyed seeing the differences of the varying terrains, she'd hoped to meet more amicable horses along the way. Thus far, she seemed to only step into tension among neighbors and meet others who were too drunk and lustful for power to have any other real interests. It was disappointing how similar they all were. Maybe that's why Macabre chose the Peak to be their home after all. Maybe there wasn't much out here waiting for her in this world. Maybe the Peak was just fine.

Her dark ears flicked forward and back as the chorus of the jungle's insect inhabitants buzzed and chirped away under the canopy of trees. Her amber eyes remained peeled for any signs of nuisance - like an offending stallion.

W A S P