you didn't fail | p, seb | you just didn't succeed

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; bgcolor=; width: 350px; overflow: auto; height: 300px;][justify][font=verdana]Minaiben was not close to home, not in the slightest. The sun had already crept above the trees, but just barely. The morning was young, the dawn coloured with the usual palette. Minai wouldn't really notice the colours, instead far more focused on the ground. For, before her, there was a picture she had inexplicably drawn into the dirt - something grotesque, something lined with limp forms and fire, crude and childish but understandable. It was a tragedy, one she couldn't remember drawing, but one she could remember causing.
She was just waking up, dazed and confused, powered by exhaustion to go far from her home and apparently regurgitate her emotions onto the dirt before her.

"This, this is why I should leave art to the artists."
Huffed the Dalish halla, dashing out the drawing with a few swipes of her hoof, leaving grooves of a more natural origin within the earth. No need to leave things like that out for everyone to see.
Her head lifted, antlers heavier than they had any right to be, thanks to her lack of sleep. Maybe she had sleepwalked all the way to... wherever she was. The scent of an unfamiliar clan was faint on the wind, off to her right, so Minaiben figured that that couldn't have been where she had come from.

[color=#4dd5cc]"That does beg the question - where is home at?"

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; bgcolor=; width: 350px; overflow: auto; height: 300px;][justify][font=verdana]Minaiben found her attention being drawn to another speaker. Someone else was here, evidently, and likely as confused as she was - that could have been a facade, but the young halla was naïve enough to give others the benefit of the doubt. The stranger looked lost, so maybe they could help each other out. Minaiben spoke up, groggy but not unable to speak her mind (she was rarely without that ability).
"Huh, that sucks then."
Her expression was blank, more or less, and she wracked her mind to figure out how to get back. If she had slept and walked herself her, perhaps she could follow her own stumbling tracks home - she doubted that she was very careful while asleep. It was odd though, this had never happened before...

With a sigh, she turned her head back to face the stranger, forcing a grin onto her face, as she did in most situations, the halla dipped her head and introduced herself. She hopefully didn't sound too reluctant.
"I'm Minaiben Lavellan. Wish I could say I didn't get into these situations, but I'd rather not start off my day immediately with a lie."
Her words flowed, the engagement with someone enough to start to wake her from her tired mindset. Her eyes began to show signs of alertness, intelligence even (if you looked hard enough), but it was curiosity that shone the brightest. Who was this creature before here? Where had he come from? [color]"And who do I have the pleasure of getting lost with?"

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; bgcolor=; width: 350px; overflow: auto; height: 300px;][justify][font=verdana]/s'all good

"Ah, Darkclan?"

Frick, for once Minaiben wished she had paid attention to a moment of politics. Maybe she'd have something to associate with 'Darkclan', other than the dull inner thought of 'perhaps they could try a few candles to light up the place'. She'd sigh out loud if she was more invested in intelligence, but luckily she was very accepting of her own stupidity. She tilted back her head, the wound between her shoulders aching. Perhaps if she hadn't spent so longer fighting those birds, she wouldn't have been tired to the point of sleepwalking.

[color=#4dd5cc]"I'm from Boneclan myself - though I can't say I know where it is. Figure I could find my own tracks and follow them back."