With the sunset behind her, the day had long passed and Kalina was feeling tired from the journey she had made. From her old land to another, the silver wanderer had made her way after bidding her family a fond farewell; she was a throwback to the ghosts of the old country, the silver herd that had once mystified and entrance wherever they had been. She was a descendent of those long passed, name for one who had been alive long ago - a son of the silver stallion of the south, so the legend had been told. A myth, or truth, the lady named for the frost adored it either way, finding her namesake a wonderful tale.
And so she had wandered, until she had swam ashore upon this island - a strange world, but one like she knew. There were herds, and she knew with her silver hide and her being a woman, this was a more dangerous place to be alone. She knew how to defend herself if need be, she knew how to run, but she was looking forward with ears upright and eyes bright.
Kalina looked about her as she wandered the common, grabbing at the grass from time to time - and she made her way to the waterside. It was only a matter of time, she knew, as she took a drink - she’d soon see others who saw her.
The frost felt both excited and anxious, but she would see.
… who would it be, she wondered.