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The days were too long, it felt to Sonje, who used the sun's over twelve-hour light to make way on her southeast journey. The pace was slow, as she never made her mare, Jagga, go much faster than a steady walk — there was no need to, she was in no rush — but it always turned out a little disconcerting when she'd settle down each night, to find that hours upon hours of deliberate meandering left her with more miles in front of her than behind. Regardless, the wolfdog Luperci had no real destination aside, so she never got too angry with her lack of progress; however, winding her way along the sparse paths of the Halcyon mountain foothills had left the exotic girl in a particularly sour mood. It had taken a day or so longer to navigate them than she'd intended.
The rhythmic riding had just put Sonje to sleep not twenty minutes before an anxious snort from her steed roused her again. Pale eyes fluttered blearily, and in the swelling twilight she noticed how clear and open everything suddenly was. Days of hills, rocks and precipices made this an incredible sight for sore eyes, and the shifter smiled despite the biting hunger that made her weak with exhaustion. She patted Jagga's thick, stone-gray neck, fond of this creature and her simple prowess as a dutiful horse, more than anything or anyone else in her life. She briefly tangled her fingers in the equine's charcoal mane, giving her a nice scratch before urging her to stop. This is a good spot, she said, dismounting agilely (with a jingle of her gold bracelets) before Jagga had stopped moving.
Sonje walked to the nearest tree on the edge of the plain, and using a tattered olive blanket that had been draped over her horse's back, made a pallet to lie on. After that she made a fire nearby, but with no prey so-to-speak to cook over it, she merely sat on her blanket and watched the flames jump about in the darkness. This was one of her sadder, more useless days it would seem.