It became apparent as the conversation dwindled and then died that Aphenia had very little to say that was not a direct response to a direct question. Impa’s inquiry about the blue roan’s previous home appeared to have been forgotten with the arrival of Anath and the filly, but even the spotted draft’s last question prompted no outward curiosity from the new mare. Impa shrugged it off and assumed Aphenia simply needed time to get her bearings, and turned her attention to Anath as the golden mare touched her left shoulder.

Impa enjoyed having the General on her blind side. It felt right to stand together, and it had been far too long since she had spent any serious amount of time with the blunt mare. The peace was broken by the filly’s sharp voice, and one of Impa’s ears twisted back as she snorted. The child’s vocabulary was as crude as her behavior, and Anath’s reprimand seemed almost lazy as she dealt with her daughter. The black mare felt lucky to have evaded the attention of stallions when she was confined to a male-dominated her, as she had no tolerance for unruly foals and had no patience to raise one herself.

“Things have been quiet,” she agreed before she turned and nipped lightly at the General’s shoulder. “That filly could use a bit of refining. Or would you have us mocked as capable only of producing squalling savages?” she asked, her words tempered with a grin. Her gaze shifted beyond the group as another horse approached them.

The newcomer was skinny and dark and walked with a gait that looked contrived, as if she were all too aware of how smoothly she crossed the grass. Impa pointed her ears toward the newcomer as she interrupted their gathering with a bubbly greeting. “Welcome,” Impa said, and tried to put a bit of warmth in her voice. “I’m Impa.” She would let the others introduce themselves this time around, and if the conversation dropped off again she could pull Anath aside for a much needed conference.

The Peak may have been quiet, but the same could not be said for Impazienza’s life.