Hushed Willows bend and break

Try as she might to integrate herself to somewhere—anywhere—that could feel like home, Meadow had come to give in to the feeling of nostalgia that tugged at her heart. The silver female came to the borders of Elysium—the place she had left without a backward glance, for there had been nothing here for her. Her father had died, her mother absent for the majority of her youthful months. Her siblings had come and gone—relationships were hard to forge when trust in others dwindled day to day.

And yet there was something about the familiar rustle of the graceful willows in the wind that allowed a surge of relief to grace the young woman. Her rust-masked face tipped upward, delicate features studying the land in quiet scrutiny before she tipped her muzzle up, beckoning for the leaders of Elysium—completely unaware that leadership had shifted to @Sunny.