That had been the last time they had all been together, back when the Kingdoms had existed and her mother had been Queen of the Falls and her, entitled as she was, had believed the world was hers and anything she wanted was hers by right.
Warlight is not so far from this place, although she would never admit it... even if she did fully realize it. She does not believe herself to be better than others, but she does believe if she should stretch out her arm to take anything, it could be hers.
Or she had until the plague struck.
Now she struggles to even walk her thinning frame to the creek for a drink on some days, and she looks more like an urchin than a princess at the moment. Along her flanks and muzzle clumps of hair are missing, her eyes are red and puffy, but despite her condition, she is wandering.
The scent of the other reaches her before she sees the stranger - the scent of a woodland creature, feral and strong yet not unpleasant.
She should probably ignore the wolf-girl, it's probably what the grey would want, but she doesn't. At the edge of the clearing Will halts, her should-be-white legs falling still for the first time in hours, and she coughs.
"What's your name," she asks because she feels the urge to meet this filly but she isn't quite sure what one says to lost children in the woods.
— soul as sweet as blood red jam —
![[Image: Warlightpageddoll1.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/NMPHtrtV/Warlightpageddoll1.png)