Again, she was the first rise before dawn. Her family was large and well-off, though the expectation of another demanding and monotonous day lurked beyond the sunrise. 

 

Nevertheless, something about this morning felt unique. The chilling breeze was infused with a calling, and the Rockali mother remembered when she used to follow the spirits of the wind before her life on the farm. Today, she would find respite in a daytrip to Virkifoss, and she saddled up her Salbrok. 

On her return from the Markets, she was adorned with no new attire nor a belly more full than need be - her nature was to care for others, and so in her arms rested a beautiful, pearlescent egg, with the warmth of a heart and a soft, metallic pulse. The stall of miscellaneous goods from which it she claimed it seemed... shady to say the least, but the beauty of this expensive treasure was irresistible.

​

2 years later...

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A heavy brush draws down a long dark mane, embroidered gold ribbons scintillated in the sunset's glow. The young Droevyn, Xoxoctic would look magnificent for tonight’s farewell event, already towering above the Salbrok herd it lived with on the farm. Its soul was of the open plains and soft grasses, not the sands where its Rockali family were relocating, and so it would be offered as a gift in a great competition on Dusk.