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[Soren]

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She dug her heels into Fate's flanks as she leaned forward, her head coming to rest against his alabaster neck. Two hearts pounding wildly in one ride.

Unison.

The vibrations of the road relentlessly beating against them. Her eyes trained on the rocks beneath the hooves and winding horizon before them she whispered, "Faster."

A breakneck speed. No thought, no doubt, just feeling.

Numbness.

Melded together she pulled on his mane as they approached a fence. She felt his hind quarters bend and push off sending them skirting along the top of the age splintered wood.

The moment.

For now that was all that existed.

[Soren]

---

The road from Minoc to Britain was long and windy. Her hair unbound and flowing freely, she and Fate slowed their pace. Just ahead, half hidden in the brush that had grown up around it was a split in the road. Resting, she studied the wear and tear of each path. It wasn't the destination, not anymore. Now it was simply living day by day.

The first of the too was much like she had once been, bright, laden with sunshine.

The second was devoid of light rays and mysteriously sank into the background.

Fate whinnied turning his head back to her.

Presented with a choice, they sat in unison examining the paths before them.

Two things were certain. They could not go back the way they came. And they were in this together, the three of them. For even if she wasn't there at the moment, Cassidy very much fit into this odd set of three.

Quietly Soren looked to the half tilted brown eyes of her Mustang. A handful of Fate's mane in her hands, she gently tugged making her choice and sending them down their path...

[Soren]

---

No longer did a road home exist. Every cobblestone she trod upon was a new one. From her path last eve in Ilshenar to her ride across the Magincia beach, every experience was new.

"Nomad?" The Atalan had referred to her as such.

"Gypsy." Came her reply.

But was she? Titles and labels she had grown accustomed to were ill fitting and mosaic. Shards of a past glued precariously to the woman she was becoming.

Adjusting her leather armor for the fifth time that evening she slid down off of Fate and entered the small house against the side of mountain.

A tiny coo echoed from within the brick and mortar casting itself into a smile across Soren's pale face. Flakes of ice and snow painted themselves onto her auburn hair and silence reigned.

Gypsy or not, for now they were visitors. And that was the only label that seemed to matter.