As far as Compass had seen, the island of Atlantis resembled a flat stone dramatically tilted to one side. The Ridge perched high on the elevated edge, though the territory still owned some stretches of white beach near the Paradise border, rather than looking out over the ocean on dizzying black cliffs. Compass preferred the cliffs over the sand, choosing to spend her time peering out over the glistening turquoise waves and finding nice places to sunbathe up high where the cool breeze allowed one to sunbathe without cooking oneself.

However, the treacherous spine of cliff Compass so fondly traced most days was not a good place to move faster than a careful walk, and the inky mare was becoming restless with the pace. Today was as good a day as any to visit the beach for a change, she thought.

It was still very early when her hooves pressed into the silky white sand. The sun had risen, but not yet high enough to dispel the enormous shadow cast by the ridge. This was good; it meant Compass could go for a nice jog without overheating. She picked up a cheerful little trot, but slowed when spotted Kasabian’s buckskin body standing in the surf. She veered toward him, the waves chilly on her heels as she abandoned her plans to run. Something about the stallion felt off, but Compass was not sure if that were true or not; she did not know him very well and could not easily sense his moods. If he had been in the Ridge lately, Compass had not seen him from her place on the cliffs.

The black mare paused when she stood behind him, reaching out her nose to bump his hip. She didn’t say anything; Compass wasn’t very good at verbal communication, nor was she very fond of it. She pointed her ears at him questioningly, though, waiting for him to decide whether or not he wanted to converse.