"If Love himself weep, shall not lovers weep,
learning from what sad cause he pours his tears?
Love hears his ladies crying their distress,
showing forth bitter sorrow through their eyes
because villainous Death has worked its cruel
destructive art upon a gentle heart,
and laid waste all that earth can find to praise
in a gracious lady, save her chastity."


Macabre's usually unsettled behavior was fading. Sure, she continued to prance in place a bit, and her blonde, thin tail whipped back and forth across her haunches. The mare's small, but erect ears swiveled forward and back, attempting to stay engaged in the conversation, but always a little worried about what was happening in the woods around her. Marlena and Inka seemed so calm and collected in comparison, and noticing this, Macabre felt embarrassed. She couldn't help it, for the most part. Life had made her this way. Nevertheless, she was determined to make this a positive interaction. Her future in the Peak was of utmost importance. And allies, it seemed, was a good way to ensure that.

The chestnut mare's marbeled eyes widened as she watched Jetta approach. And suddenly, the jitters stopped. She stood quietly planted, watching the filly as she ambled over cautiously. A soft, but barely visible, smile etched itself across Macabre'es whiskered lips as Jetta eyed her curiously. As if to encourage her, she nickered softly, her nostrils flaring momentarily and the mare arched her neck toward her in anticipation. When Jetta touched her, Macabre returned the favor by lowering her muzzle over the filly's topline and breathing in. Oh, the smell of a child. It was heartwarming. She exhaled, sending the wispy strands of Jetta's mane to and fro in the rush of breathe. "I like your color too." She said in response. "It's so very nice to meet you Jetta."