Pale, red light danced across the ocean, reflected down from the sky as the sun dipped below the horizon. In it’s glow, an equally pale, red figure emerged from the surf. She stood for moment, water dripping from her shaggy, winter coat as her green eyes sparked with familiarity. She gave an almight shake, ridding herself of what excess water she could, though she could already feel the heat of Atlantis growing humid humid on her skin. “Ég er Kraken Dögunsdóttir” she announced to the Gods, for there was noone else around to hear, “Þog þú munt ekki verða fyrir vonbrigðum.”

How long had it been since she had last set hoof on the islands? She had been nothing more than a girl when left the ridge with her mother., She often remembers how much the older mare enjoyed the richness and variation of the food, while hating the quiet and lonliness that had surrounded them. It was funny how little it would have taken for her mother to have enjoyed her time there. She was a simple creature, so long as she had full belly and a herd to keep her safe, she was happy. Kraken had never been so easily satisfied. She needed excitment and adventure. Standing around getting fat and churning out children had never appealed to her, but she still had a sense of nostalgia about her old homes - however fleeting her stays had been.

The sound of her hooves clacking of the rocks echoed into the still, night air as she made her way off the craggy shore and onto the beach. She cast her green eyes upward to survey the sheer face of the ridge that rose above the direct treeline. It was a quiet and peaceful as she remembered, but she hoped that would not last for long.

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