Freshly returned from their visit to Luthien, mare and filly had been enjoying a midday nap in the lowest slopes, where the trees were thickest. Yet despite the patchy shade that sheltered them, the unseasonably warm temperatures soon drew Jetta from her slumber early, the prickle of sweat on her hide too uncomfortable for her tired mind to ignore. When tossing and turning in the soft grass did not bring the bliss of unconsciousness back to her, the weanling filly had stood with a resigned sigh and, after a backwards glance at her heavily-sleeping dam, began to wander in the hopes of finding a drink.

Distracted multiple times by curious flying insects, Jetta soon realized she was lost.

Unlike most children, however, she did not immediately feel panicked. Being alone was something she strangely enjoyed, and she knew there was no cause to be scared in the peak; it was a sanctuary for mares, where no stallions or predators lived. It is the safest place in all the islands, her mother had once told her. Thus, confident that either Inka would track her down or that she would soon run into someone, the bay splash filly held her head high and began to travel uphill, to where trees would not marr her view of the surrounding landscape.

Along the way she let her mind and eyes wander, keenly watching as birds flitted overhead from tree to tree and imagining what it might be like to be one of them. How wonderful would it be to have feathers instead of fur - to have the endlesss blue of the sky as her home, instead of the dull solidity of soil and grass?

Voices soon drew her from her reverie, and Jetta picked up her pace in response, abandoning her daydream for the promise of companionship. As she heaved herself over a small ledge and onto a relatively flat expanse of meadow, she was met with the sight of a large ashy mare she did not know and a smaller reddish mare. The filly approached cautiously, eyeing the spotted blanket on the large mare's back and remembering the spotted horses she had left behind on Luthien. It was when her eyes drifted back to the other mare that a bright smile suddenly brightened her pale face and she erupted into a canter, covering the rest of the ground between them in a single heartbeat.

"Hi!" she squeaked joyfully, pressing in close to Macabre and gazing up at her with blue eyes gleaming (though in truth she had almost caught up to the mare in height). "It's so hot today, isn't it? Her short black tail snapped back and forth eagerly, revealing the soft spot she'd developed for the chestnut mare in the short time they'd known each other.

After a moment, she tilted her head sideways to gaze up at the imperiously tall blanketed mare, and her expression softened in a mixture of humility and curiousity. Why did all the Peak mares have to be so big?

friesian mix; bay splash; 6 mo; 16’1 wfg
(YET-uh)