If Black Heart Machine only had but one hope—it was that all mares could live their lives without ever believing for a second that they were less than a stallion. It was their right, not just as women, but also as individuals, and they had been so often denied this throughout history that it filled Machine with a kind of furious determination for change. She wholeheartedly believed it was her purpose in life to level the playing field and she wasn’t planning on leaving this earth until that feat was accomplished. Whatever Gods there were would have to pry her cold, dead body away with their bare hands if they intended to take her before she thought her time was up. Hopefully, they were smarter than to trifle with Machine’s ambition.

When Skylar inquired about Machine’s presence, despite having never seen her before, a corner of Machine’s dark lips turns up slightly.

“That’s because I have lived here for many years, perhaps before you were even born,” she replies casually, noticing Skylar was on the younger side. Machine was certainly not the spry young mare she used to be, but she hardly would let that limit her. “Anath was one of my dearest friends…”

Machine pauses a moment, her expression stoic, to recall her long and storied history with the only mare she ever had feelings for that transcended the typical relationships she kept. The day Rodion and Koschei died, and the week following that Black Heart Machine and Anath had comforted each other on this very mountain was long and difficult, and it had profoundly changed them both. Perhaps one day she would see Anath again, and if that day ever came, Machine could not say for sure what she would feel.

Turning her attention away from the memory and back to Skylar, Machine continues. “I have certainly seen a lot.”

BLACK HEART MACHINE