The last time she had come here had been an unpleasant experience. It brings back memories of panic and fear, fear that she would be taken from Debonaire, or that he would be taken from her, although his injuries only ended up being superficial and Craigan had no interest in her. They were sour memories, and ones that Rosaline hopes to replace with something far more pleasant.
Blitzen could not be considered her friend, not really, but when the stranger had wandered into the ridge and claimed it for himself – when she had finally accepted that Blackmore was gone and would no longer protect her, the only name she could think of had been Blitzen’s. Blackmore’s other mares made no effort to stick together, Rosaline had watched them wandered off with no sorrow in her heart.
She considered returning to the crossing, but the thought of trying her luck so close to winter, and in breeding season, seemed stupid.
So she had braved the swim to Luthien instead, pulled herself ashore, and wandered until the thick barrier of thorns stood in her way.
“Blitzen?”she says, although she is not sure if he is anywhere near. She takes a tentative step forward, ears perked and her neck stretched. She would not finding him hiding out here, she would have to enter the thick undergrowth. She reminds herself that she would not be attacked this time, Blitzen knew her. ‘and Craigan new Debonaire, that did not stop him’ her mind cruely reminds her.
She is not exploring for long before she hears movement ahead of her, and pauses mid-step. “Blitzen?”she says again uncertainly. What if it wasn’t him? What if it was a stranger? Rosaline takes a step backwards, soft brown eyes peering through the thick branches.