The foal - she considered herself an adult - had wandered away from Ischia to where she assumed the forest is. It was different than before the earth had changed herself, and Mentalio was often heard cursing under her breath. Her stumbling made the young filly loath herself, as she was used to wading out into the ocean off Ischia's shore.
When the sun finally started to lower towards the horizon once again, opposite where this day's cycle began, she wasn't stumbling as often. But she still made such a racket that she may as well be trying to wake the entire land of Beqanna up; yet nobody seemed to hear her. Or maybe she was just in an isolated area where she's alone. She preferred to think it's just because she's alone.
When the sun finally started to lower towards the horizon once again, opposite where this day's cycle began, she wasn't stumbling as often. But she still made such a racket that she may as well be trying to wake the entire land of Beqanna up; yet nobody seemed to hear her. Or maybe she was just in an isolated area where she's alone. She preferred to think it's just because she's alone.