Night was beginning to fall. Callisto stood, watching the skies, tired but restless. Moments of silence back at her old herd were few and far between, something that annoyed her; yet now that silence was all she had, she'd began to loathe it. She dreaded the nighttime.
Glancing thoughtfully at the sun, which dipped just on the rim of the horizon, she began her trek through the woods to do something that had been at the back of her mind for a long time. She began to search for other herds before the darkness of the evening would settle upon the land. She followed the direction of the river, wondering if it would lead her to another herd. Where water goes, life follows, she thought.
It had been what seemed like forever that she'd walked. But when she slowed to look up at the sunset, before she knew it, her hoof struck a blunt corner of a strange, hard object. When she looked down, she was absolutely puzzled to find that she'd stumbled upon a bridge.
