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Zahariel had nothing to fear from the denizens of the Soquili lands. As the daughter of Reaper, she felt protected by his name just as much as by the spikes that adorned her body. She had encountered arrogant creatures who believed themselves up to the task of taking her down, but they had been proven wrong time and time again. She doubted she would find anyone equal to that task. It was just as well that her father's genes lent her a certain superiority in the field, for she had developed something of an inferiority complex at home. Her father had been loving, her sisters had been... well, sisters (there was nothing that really could be said about that relationship, except that it was normal enough, and pleasant enough all things considered), her brother shared a special relationship with her and had since they had left their baskets. Her mother, by contrast, was frigid. Not unloving, no... not precisely. Hard to understand, more so, and harder still to impress.

Angelique had a particularly poor opinion of Zaha's black coat, and had considered her to be the ugly duckling of her latest brood. The proverbial black sheep among the white. It was such a simple thing, such a little thing. And yet Zahariel had wanted very badly to earn her mother's regard. If she could somehow prove that she was worthy, she thought that she might have a chance of getting closer to her dam. The question, however, was how to achieve that. What could she possibly do that would be enough to achieve the results she wanted? With such thoughts clouding her mind, Zaha wandered farther from her home than she had ever strayed, her path winding its way up into the mountains... into dangerous locals. When finally she came back to herself, it was to the realization that she had hoofed her way outside of the lands that she knew into unfamiliar territory. She stopped to reassess the situation. Where exactly was she?

"You probably never will," Zahariel replied, well aware that there were only a handful of beings similar to her, all of which were her siblings and parents. "I've never seen anyone like you, though, so I think we're even on that score." Of course, she had seen feathered winged Kalona trait carrying Soquili before. Her father was one of them, as were a couple of her sibs. Hell, even she had headwings. The combination of unicorn horn, Kalona horns, and feathery wings was unique though, to her knowledge. Zaha's eyes took in the scars on his neck, and she wondered whether she ought to ask about them, or if that was likely to rile the stranger stallion up. Eventually she decided not to say anything at all. Interesting... his eyes were a lot like her father's, weren't they? It was slightly discomforting to be crept up on like that, but really... what did she have to fear from him? Oh, he had sharp teeth, she could see that from here. Sharp teeth that would find no purchase on her spikes. Cautiously, she stood her ground, waiting to see how he would react. "I'm not from around here."

Perhaps he would have been surprised by how truly self conscious the mare was at the core. Perhaps he would have expected it. "I'm Zahariel, and I usually stick to the plains. For some reason, the mountains seemed more appealing today." Not good reasons, for certain. The mountains tended to be full of dangerous creatures, creatures that Zahariel would just as soon not encounter, no matter how unafraid she might be. She had the strangest feeling now, though. The feeling that they were being watched, somehow, somewhere. She dismissed it. If the watcher did not draw attention to him or herself, there was no reason to acknowledge them. Besides which, it was entirely possible that her mind was simply creating threats where there were none.

"I suppose you could call me a wanderer." It wouldn't be spot on, though. She had only just begun her wanderings, after all. Did that make her a novice wanderer, or something to that effect?