Common

A single seeing eye focuses on the distant shores, she stands poised at the edge of the sea's grasp. The surf froths and hisses at her toes, beckoning her into it's embrace. Yet, despite the call she stands still, a stark contrast to the world behind her.

Spring has finally touched every part of the Islands, bringing forth new robust living blood. Even the Badlands brings forth tender shoots of grass that stubbornly push themselves toward the warming sun. The past few days have left her weary, and bored with the tedious comings and goings of being a Queen. Perhaps, this is what has brought her to the hissing surf, or maybe her heart urns from something more?

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The swim from the Badlands never has been easy, but on this day, the pregnant Queen needs the space to breath. She steps from the sea, and rivulets of water drip down her roan sides. She pauses, her nostrils flaring as she brings in the diverse scents that cling to the commons. Her nostrils flare, and begin to decipher the scents that are laid out before her. Some, are familiar, while others are not. But all of them had come her for the same purpose.

She is the daughter wayfaring storyteller, who cherished his daughter with everything that he had. Her mother had died early in life so she can hardly recall the sound of her voice. When she was old enough she knew that she would have to leave her father, he could not keep both of them safe. She quickly learned to take care of herself, defend herself, and to survive on her own. She had been taught from an early age that the only one who could be depended on, was herself.

She steps from the hissing surf, the water desperately clings to her water logged feathers, which makes walking up the sandy beach difficult. She snorts and laboriously pulls herself through the sand until she finds even ground. Her swollen sides heave with every breath. Damn it she growls under breath. She stands prone, her waterlogged tail smacking her sides as she idly waits for her breath to return. A movement catches her good eye, she swivels her thick crown to look down the beach. A behemoth of a stallion moves quietly along, his steps are slow and deliberate.

A soft breeze ruffles her unkempt tangled tresses as she watches the stallion move down the beach toward her. She raises her head and looks at him with her seeing eye. She turns and draws nearer to the stallion, a smirk tugging at her dark lips. "You, look lost," she pauses as she eyes him with her seeing eye.