Redsand Canyon I will give you the world, child, if you prove you can take it.

The stranger's voice did meet her ears, and she was cognizant of being followed, but in that addled way of the elderly Winterfox did not heed as quickly as she ought to. There was a span of time where she plum forgot to turn around; she wasn't mindful of her surroundings either, and only came back to herself when she caught the lip of some slate with the corner of a hoof, and the clattering of her quickstep grounded her.

She looked around, perplexed about where she was. The earth was red here! Not the shade of bay or buckskin she might have considered with the word, and not quite as dark as blood, but still something between. The ground was disintegrated, like a beachside, and there were clusters of dry yellow grasses prickling upward from the soil. She moseyed towards one of these but upon grabbing for them, the sharp tine-like quality of the hardgrass made her pull back.

Movement of something more familiar drew a watery glance. There, finally, Winterfox saw one of the women from the men's competition. You are so far from your herd! The elder cajoled, absent-minded about her own situation.