One of the first rules of survival was to always follow the water. Vesna had considered following the coastline, but the winter winds had driven her away. Instead, she had turned her attention towards the island's interior, following the streams and brooks into the grasslands beyond. Despite her usual confidence, Vesna found that she felt quite small beneath the shadow of unfamiliarity. She had seen many places since she had been born, but the knowledge that not even her mother had seen the Islands made her stomach knot up. The Islands had been a fable for the most part, and Vesna wondered just how much of the tales were true. If they had been lies, what was waiting for her instead?
She stopped at the thought, shook her head, snorted and hit the ground hard with a hoof. What use were those kinds of thoughts? And who was she to have them? Vesna had never known fear or uncertainty. No, she'd never been raised with those kinds of words. Her mother had been kind and tender, but not fearful; she had showed Vesna just how much of the world one could see without fear, after all. It felt like an offense to her to even consider shrinking back and away from the potential adventures ahead of her, be they adventures full of joy or full of terrifying things. Whatever kind they were, Vesna had come for them, and she'd damn well fight her way through them if she had to. At least, that was what she told herself, standing there frowning and pawing at the ground.
Eventually, Vesna realised she had just been standing there looking wholly determined, but not exactly acting upon it. It was as if she had come to a complete standstill, a stasis almost. The realization made her accept one thing, at least: she was exhausted. Even that made her sigh and shake her head, agitated by the fact. There was still a lot of land to cover, but she couldn't deny the rumblings of hunger or the nagging weariness in her legs. With what felt like more effort than it should have, she pushed herself forward and away from the creek. Ahead of her, she could hear a waterfall, but the scents of many unfamiliar others lingered in the breeze too. With a flick of her ear, she decided against venturing that far ahead and instead, she found herself a tree on which to lean. Its canopy was little more than bare branches, and the bark was gnarled and rough and yet, she doubted she'd ever felt that kind of comfort before. Leaning against it, she closed her eyes just for a while - she'd get a move on again soon, she promised herself, but she just needed a minute.
vesna.