Lost Creek Hollow it was not meant that we should voyage far.

This place was not so bad. There were mountains (none as great as her mountain, she'd find herself thinking), there were forests (none as beautiful as the atrium of Labrynth in the summer) and there was always something new to see, smell, or taste. Rheia was blessed with life at a time when things were starting to decay and she knew this, and in keeping with her faith she thanked her mother every night. But she seemed so distant now, like the rest of her family.

Rheia ducked through the ferns and brushed through them, feeling their curled fronds pull at her fur in a way the mosses of home never did. The taste of pollen wasn't there - but the winter was coming, so that made sense. She longed to see the maze in the snow one last time - and was caught off-guard when a voice splintered her thoughts. She paused and raised her head, catching sight of a brackish stranger among the verdant plant life.

The sisters had once tried to teach her more than the ancient tongue and she had been on her way to succeed with it, this new language that was so unlike the comfortable greek that everyone coveted. Rheia had learned the basics and so, when the stranger greeted her with a cautious tone she wasn't afraid. Hallo, she parroted dumbly followed by the lick of her lips, and the slip of her ears like butterfly wings askew. Rheia did not know what to do next. Her voyage thus far had been a lonely venture and without her sisters to guide her, she was like a vessel lost at sea.