inka

Thankfully, it seemed the painted mare did not take offense to her suggestion. Inka’s dark face crinkled with sympathy when she admitted that she was as exhausted as she looked. “I can imagine,” Inka replied with a supportive nod, though in truth she could not. She could not begin to imagine. Nonetheless, she easily continued her side of the conversation. “It’s nice to meet you, and your daughters.” She allowed her eyes to drift downwards to the loud-colored little bodies of the fillies, and managed a small, bittersweet smile. “They are beautiful. Your hard work paid off.” The longer she looked at them, however, the more she could only see two small living creatures without winter coats who might perish if they were not kept warm in this unseasonably cold weather. They had to get moving.

Chest swelling with determination and maternal instinct, the big mare bobbed her head and began to lead the way. The ground did not slope too sharply downhill, but Inka nonetheless travelled slowly, to give Skylar and her newborn daughters as much time as they needed to traverse the snow and rocks. Inka looked over her shoulder often to check on them, though the walk was not far – within five minutes or so, the gurgling of the little stream could be heard echoing amongst the trees ahead. The Friesian mare did not drink; instead she stepped aside and watched Skylar to make sure she and her daughters managed the icy edge of the water okay. She could only hope that a drink and some rest was all the mare needed; she did not know how she would cope if Skylar’s strength only continued to weaken. Any thoughts in that direction weresimply too dark to entertain.

Hoping a distraction would help her acquaintance’s strength recover faster, Inka broke the silence again. “How long have you lived here in the peak? Are there others here?”

thirteen – 17hh – friesian