The arrival of Jezibelle and Imp had not escaped Osprey’s attention. While Mouse isolated herself, trying to decide how to revive the mountain, the young mare had taken to watching the comings and goings of the Peak. Typically there was nothing to see within the mares’ territory, and she would instead watch the few horses mingling in the common areas of the island. She struggled with indecision; half of her wanted to burst from the boundaries of the Peak and go on an adventure, and the other half wished to stay sheltered here forever. The day the two additional drafts had shown up had brought the potential of a comrade to escape with, or at least someone to keep her company who wasn’t her mother, who she had come to find dreadfully boring.

From that moment on she took to quietly observing them from afar, not necessarily hiding but not being overly obvious either. Slowly, her hopes of a companion faded as she realized the blanketed filly kept mostly to her mother’s or Impa’s side. The bay draft seemed irritable, and Impa still intimidated her from time to time despite never having been unkind.

Today, though, seemed more promising. The bay had been absent for a time, and Impa was leading the filly down the mountain. Osprey intended to follow them both out, but she was taken by surprise when the larger mare left the weanling behind. Even better, she thought. Not that she would get them into too much mischief, but the grulla wanted her presumed new friend to herself. She watched from behind the thick trunk of a pine, waiting for her opportune moment.

When the chestnut had gone back to whatever solitary game she played – one that was quite similar to those Osprey herself had occupied herself with – the painted girl stepped from her hiding place. She nickered a greeting to the other, then brightly introduced herself. “Hi! I’m Osprey!”

osprey

mutt | filly | grullo tobiano | 14.3 hh WFG | 2 years | styrke x mouse