Whispers of a land notorious for violence had reached a minx stained in the ashes of fury. The fields that expanded before her looked pathetic. They were devoid of the life they should have been supporting, or rather the life they could support. Patches of dirt littered the landscape, tearing into what was left of the tall grasses. A smattering of wildflowers decorated the ground, but they too looked just as sad as the rest of the steppe. Upon the ground were various equines at varying states of health. This steppe was rife with the tales of violence she desired to be a part of. Effy had often believed that she wrote the books of war, and she had often told this to others. She passed herself off as a goddess that lost her throne. Usurped by the very sister she hated so much. Effy snarled to herself as she shifted through this place, ignoring those that lie upon the ground begging for aid to any who would listen. One beast had the audacity to nip one of her ankles to get her attention. "You beg for assistance from the embodiment of violence. Beg for aid from one who is selfless, because I will consume you if you dare beg me again."  Effy's voice dripped with malice. Her words were nothing but genuine, though she was surprised that she even bothered showing mercy. Efphion didn't take any amusement in abusing those who could not even defend themselves.

She wanted them to at least put up a fight. Effy moved on from the poor sap sprawled upon the ground. Someone had really done a number on him, and she didn't even have the patience to admire their work. Efphion's annoyance had grown just from that small interaction. It was almost nothing, and she was sure it was something she'd forget within hours. If she did not forget in hours, the days would come and purge the memory. Time had a way of purging and erasing so many things. Effy felt there were few things she respected as much as Time and her beloved Sun. Effy didn't see anyone that sparked an interest, and so her disappointment grew. This was not the fields of violence she had been promised by the rumors, though perhaps that was her own fault for chasing the possibility of lies.