There—just strides away from her—sat the sly fox, not even sparing her a glance as it nonchalantly licked a carmine paw. That devious little thing is taunting me, Cyrene huffed, gold-flecked wings pinned sleekly against her sides as tawny eyes gleamed with still-fresh adrenaline. The chase never failed to thrill her—the heart-pounding anticipation, the whistling wind breathing secrets into her ears like a trusted companion. But what she loved most of all was that it made her feel whole again. For a sacred moment, her bleeding heart was filled with the comforting warmth of nostalgia—a fading summer's day, the air buzzing with the rhythmic chirp, chirp, chirp of leaf-green locusts as a girl with wild curls and crimson wings twirled under an azure sky.

A red streak flew across the snow. How foolish, to let her eyes slip from the wily fox for even a second! With a spirited leap, the distant summertime memory was buried under a flurry of snow as Cyrene burst out of the underbrush hot in pursuit, nimble hooves barely skimming the crystalline powder in her speed. Running from me is futile, tricky one! Deftly leaping over snow-covered boulders and frozen streams, the distance between the lion-eyed huntress and her unfortunate prey steadily closed. Perhaps sensing its imminent doom, the panicked fox spun on its heels quick as a whip and snapped its razor-sharp teeth at Cyrene’s velveteen nose; its jaws closed on air, a laugh spilling out of the wood nymph’s rosy lips as she sprang harmlessly out of the way. "I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Mr. Fox,” she sang, "for I don’t intend to eat you. If you must know, I’m a vegetarian.” Smiling cheerily at the wary creature, she gently lowered her head until mirthful eyes met vulpine ones narrow with apprehension. "But I thank you for the wondrous chase—and it seems you’ve led me to a new land as well!” 

As the dazed fox dashed away, eager to get as far as it could from that mad girl, Cyrene stretched her willowy limbs leisurely as she surveyed her surroundings with interest. The boat ride earlier had been a… novel experience. Though the bold lass would never reject adventure even if it came in the form of a fire-breathing dragon (did they exist here?), she planned to avoid boats for a little while at least. Seasickness was an awful feeling, and if Cyrene had known that beforehand she would’ve concocted a simple tonic for banishing nausea. Heaven knows how much she’d needed it.

Novus—that was what they had called this vast land. It was a kingdom she’d never known of prior to stepping onto the ferry that had transported her across the stormy seas. Granted, she hadn’t known any of the lands she’d traveled through after departing Pelion almost a year ago. Yet the farther Cyrene wandered, the louder the voice in her mind had begged her to linger, to stay. To settle, instead of roaming for eternity like a lost lamb.

Amber eyes angled skywards, coming to rest on a spot where a particular constellation would glimmer, faintly, in the night sky. "Is it time to stop running, Cygnus? Have I fled far enough from the smoke, from the plague—from you?” But sweet Cygnus could not answer from the grave.