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The trip had started as a casual trip to gather herbs and find new growth. The wet earth made it easier to find bulbs and seeds, and cleanly pull out fresh growth for replanting. Mushrooms, as well were plentiful, the scattered rains of early spring calling the caps from their hiding places. She had run out of her spring herbs a good while ago. and was looking forward to the new spring. As the warmer weather and rains were ideal for most of her favorite scented herbs and plants, returning anew from their sleep. Winter was a difficult season for the blind mare- who relied upon the scent of plants to orient herself. The sterile landscape of winter even bleaker for the mare, unable to see the beauty of snow and the clear winter skies.

The storm had come suddenly- the pleasant light rain quickly turning to a heavy downpour with the distant rumble of thunder coming off the horizon. The energy of the land starting to take on a foreboding heavy notes of a large storm. The scent on the heavy wet air was that of a large storm thunder meant lightning, and fire. She heard (or imagined) the sound of crackling fire. The fear of fire was an early terror instilled at the memory of the heat of great flames that claimed an home. The skittish young mare dropping her half full basket and fleeing.

She tore through the leafless underbrush at a full gallop. Fleeing the sound of cracks of lighting and thunder behind her. Her blind eyes remaining open, their milky gaze fixed forward as her soaked florescent mane whipped along her neck. Breath coming out in great clouds on the lingering cold of winter. Gusts and unpredictable cross breezes heralding the strong headwinds that were to come.

Tree roots were everywhere, causing the mare to trip up and fall, only to be up again in moments, blind terror driving her forward until the accrued bruises made full gallop too painful. Slowed by the soothing sound of quick running water, serving to replace the crackle of imaginary flames. At this point- she stopped and flared her nostrils while exhaling a warm breath into the cold air of of the changing seasons. Smelling familiar shoreline plants, wet dirt and the dust free fresh air of the storm. Finding a maple tree by it's bitter scent, finding temporary shelter within the grove of trees. Taking comfort in the odor of the maples' crushed twigs, pressing her nose into a pile of sticks, their strong scents overcoming the chaos about her.

...This way, she stayed, slowing shakes and heavy breathing, returning again with each new crack of lightning and the approaching rumble of the storm. The blind mare was lost. Terror amplified through the groans, cracking and scream of the trees and destruction and death of her beloved plants in the growing winds. the larger world about her turning to swirling scents of chaos as the headwinds began to hit.

A concerned voice calling over the rising wind followed by a bump as a large branch landed where she had been huddled. Feeling dual sets of wings tucked tight against a light form. Thinking as she did so: I can't see and my helper has to worry about two sets of wings- a fine pair we make in this storm. She didn't speak but nodded emphatically, taking the lead of the winged stranger. The realization that she was not far from home but completely lost scared her. She knew the river ran to the cliffs where it dropped off in a waterfall, a passing thought of ...A very bad place to be right now and upriver lead to a small mountain of stunted brush and caves. Crying against the wind CAVES UP RIVER... Should be safe! a rolling boom met by a sharp crack causing her to jump.
The storm had the blind mare worried. At least she had a set of eyes by proxy to get her out of this alive, the stranger had shown concern for her wellbeing, which was lucky. A walker would've left her body to wash off the waterfalls down river. Regardless, in good weather a winged associate would go a long way.

If the stranger had meant aspen any harm by now- she would have acted, unless she was leading her somewhere dry to do so in comfort. Though than... be easier to blame it on the storm- or from the very start just watch the branch fall and laugh at the weak thing unable to fend for itself...
Where was willow? she worried for her sister, she was not meant to be tested this storm. It was to be her fathers, and his alone. now- she was sure to be risking herself... perhaps if she listened for the quickest part of the river she could push the stranger in and flee before they could hurt her...
Aspen broke the loop of dark thoughts.
...The stranger had done none of these things, a wing was wrapped around her and she was felt safe, protected. This wasn't her first storm, but the first to she had to rely on a stranger for.
A long pause followed until Aspen responded, shaking her head strongly and responding in short bursts of shouted speech "… I’m Aspen! … caves might be flooded?!... Ideas?! Did you pass any others? The last statement spoken slightly lower with an expectant tone.