Bring back what once was mine!

VALKYRIE She stood in the storm It was a self-appointed mission -of sorts- trawling through the brutish contours of hell to find a place that better suited both her mood, and her constantly evolving intentions; somewhere as harshly natured and bitter as she. Valkyrie had explored the southern extremities of the Rift, with its fancy panoramic sea views and luscious-looking, filthy rainforest, but the haze of molesting sandflies were a right, royal nuisance and the constant, oppressing humidity (together with the stench of old brine), even through these brilliantly water-logged months, gave both her skin and her head an ache. She was used to, and also very much preferred, the biting chill there atop Loorien’s highest peak (there could be no finer, she assumed), and the shrill whistle of the wind through the savage granite tors every night to sing her to sleep; vermin stood little chance between  the efforts of the fastidious keepers of Sunnmōre and the ruthless conditions, combined. So too had the narcissistic young Shieldmaiden, swept her discriminating opinion through the mists of the West; Solanis, the Summit and the old dead tree, were the furthest point away from Halyven and likewise the  very destination she’d selected to recoup and recover after Hope. The region wasn’t home though. There was a constant procession of tourists which eliminated her desire for solitude and secrecy and still worse were the ones that she knew; those who (she felt) came to gawk at the repulsiveness of her abhorred masculine affliction. K’yarie was there, had shown up under the guise of requiring solar petals, and though the hum of attraction rang true, Valkyrie was more consumed by the undertow of vengeance. After many weeks spent ‘escaping’ the vicinity of the Portal, colliding with strangers and brewing further in  her cess-pool of angst, the pale-pelted adolescent had slipped into the north -deliberately skirting west of Hope’s herd- and discovered a realm unlike any she’d come across thus far in her travels. The impact of the consequential optimism was instant, rewarding, and exciting. Though rain continued to fall without any sign of remission, she felt all at once warmer, not of course as a result of the climate -that was delightfully freezing- but  instead contentedness in familiarity, as though her striking blue eyes were caressing the snow-capped pinnacle of her own mountain home. After a month (perhaps more) spent exploring the wet, wintry wonderland -shrouded in spangled twilight, ribbed with murky shadow- Valkyrie came at last upon a vast field of ice to the far east; a coast, she thought, that felt far more enticing than the stinking sea and sand to the south. The glorious frozen landscape, dotted with richer colour even then Solanis, spread out beneath the winged-one’s hooves, for as far as her enthralled stare cared to see. With the jagged teeth of Blood Falls (the river somewhere beneath it which had swollen and cloaked her in putrid tar), rising at her rear, she stepped carefully forward to pursue her blossoming curiosity. While she examined the sleek, snowy surface, wary -naturally- of cracks, it became apparent that something other than black, bottomless ocean lurked down beneath. Intrigued, her soft, rosy lips descended, unaware that another stood yonder, doing much the same thing. and when the wind did not blow her way, she adjusted her sails.

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Notes for clarity:
- Valkyrie was cursed here. Physically she appears as a stallion, cannot remember why she hates men, and views others as the opposite gender.
- Vynter gave her a bead here that alters her body language to favour males.