Theá and Winterjet had been talking together for about an hour or two, each asking the other questions - with Winterjet being significantly more cautious - about their respective lives and goals. Winterjet had let slip that she was from the north, hailing from a small village near the Crystal Empire but outside of the dome. She’d grown up in a harsh environment of snowstorms, chill winds, limited agriculture and hard labor. Her cutie mark - a snowflake with a metallic silver-sheen - had appeared when she had saved herself from getting pierced by a sharp rock jutting out of the ground by shielding her side with ice as a form of armour. It had been tough enough that she only received a bruise that wouldn’t let her sleep for a week. 

She’d later tried to do the same both with and without her amulet, and found that it was whatever magic inhabited the amulet that empowered her magic to the point where it was as strong as steel. A few stories about her travels had also been shared; about how she had actually fought and killed the bear she had gotten the fur from, how she had once snuck through an Everfree Tribe to steal from their food storages and only just gotten out alive. 

“You have some interesting tales, Little One,” Theá said, giving the pegasus a brief glance before turning her eyes towards the horizon where the sun was just starting to peek up from behind the hills. “And a life with continuous struggles as well. What happened to you wanting to become a guard, though? You did say that it was your childhood dream.” 

Winterjet sighed, hanging her head slightly. “Yeah, I did want to become a royal guard and protect the princesses, but they disappeared when I was only 15—three years before I was of age to join—and I by then it was already too late. My father and mother, however, trained me as best they could together with some of their friends in the homeguard. I was taught to fight, to survive. I was taught the values of a true protector, and I can’t count how many times they beat it into my head that I had to put others above myself; I was to be a guard, so civilian lives were worth more than my own.” She grimaced and stomped a hoof on the ground. “Not much good it did me. I couldn’t do shit when a fight between the cult and some gryphons moved into our village. My parents and I managed to flee and after a week or two came across a refugee near Canterhorn. Mom and Dad decided to stay, and so did I for a couple years. It was five years until they both died. Not by some attack but simply age and sickness. The nurses couldn’t do anything.” 

She was silent for a moment, nothing but the sound of the wind rushing past them. She suddenly chuckled. “Cliché as it may sound, I remember my mother’s last words to me before she slept in: ‘[i]Do what you think is right[/i]’. It’s nothing special, but I think she wanted me to continue to try and protect ponies… That was twelve years ago—I’ve been wandering around every since, staying no more than a year at any refugee camp before moving on.” 

Theá nodded, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Commendable, truly. Not many have managed to survive this long without being affiliated to any faction. You tell me you were a soldier, or as much of one as you could become given the circumstances, so why didn’t you join the Stormwing?” 

“While Stormwing may be militaristic and hold to the customs set down by Commander Hurricane centuries ago they are not something I like. They’re too… I don’t know. I just don’t like the—what the hell is that?!” 

While talking she had let her gaze turn towards the sky where she noticed a grey shape rapidly descending… or rather, falling.

Winterjet jumped with her wings flared, crouching into a combat-ready position when whatever, or whoever, it was crashed into the ground only a few metres from them, her teeth unwittingly bared and turned into those of a carnivore again. 

Theá, for her part just watched with a raised eyebrow at the familiar shape that had collided face-first with the ground. 

[i]I don’t know her.[/i]

[i]Yes you do. See those wings? That horn? She’s an Alicorn like you.[/i]

[i]Yes, but I don’t know her.[/i]

[i]Shaved head, a klutz, grey coat. Doesn’t ring a bell? She’s your sister, Silver Sweeper.[/i]

[i]I don’t know her.[/i]

“Hi Theá!”

[i]Told you![/i]

[i]Shut up.[/i] Theá inwardly groaned, finally silencing the part of her mind that insisted on recognising Silver Sweeper as a paragon and a guardian of ponykind. That is, unless that part of her had gone silent on its own thanks to Sweeper greeting her. 

“Who the hell is that?” 

Theá turned her head to look at Winterjet, wings still spread wide, but her stance was more relaxed and she no longer bared her teeth, although the fangs still poked a good centimetre out from her upper lip, not to mention that they were easy to spot when she spoke. 

“That, Winterjet, is my sister and fellow Goddess, Silver Sweeper and…” she cocked her head to the side. “Someone tied to her back like a ragdoll. Who might you be? ...And yes, hello to you, Sweeper. It’s been a while.”