Inka

Though she ached all over with physical and emotional exhaustion, the Friesian mare's senses were still sharp in only the way a new mother's could be. At the sound of pine needles crunching beneath hooves, her long nose snapped upward, and she pricked her ears. Her body tensed instinctively, trembling with the effort, in preparation to defend her newborn son. The colt, meanwhile, remained helpless on the ground in a nest of muck and clover.

It was only Adelheid. Nonetheless, one of Inka's ears twisted back, and she briefly glanced beyond her youngest daughter to see whether Diamant had followed her. Thankfully, he had not.

But then her daughter, with hardly a glance at her newborn brother, announced her departure with a frankness that turned Inka's gut cold. The Friesian mare's lips parted, and she stared at Adelheid as if she were a stranger, while her son began to stir unnoticed at her feet. Who was this young mare standing before her? Where had this bitterness in her tone, this hardness in her gaze come from? Did she care nothing for the fact that Inka had just given birth to her younger brother?

Before the Friesian mare could respond, however, Adelheid turned to leave. And then - like a godsend - the prime minister of the peak appeared, right in Adelheid's path like an enormous barrier. She greeted the young mare warmly, not letting on as to whether or not she had overhead their conversation, but Inka was grateful nonetheless. She pressed her lips together, her throat tight with sudden emotion, and nodded gratefully when Impazienza offered her congratulations.

Inka felt something bump against her legs, and looked down to see that her son was standing. His fur was still wet, giving him the look of a half-drowned mouse, and he swayed back and forth on his ramshackle legs like a flower in the wind, but he was standing.

Despite herself, Inka smiled and half-laughed, half-sobbed. After a few moments, her dark eyes sought those of both her daughter and the prime minister. "I'm so tired," she whimpered. "Please, won't both of you stay for a while? I feel as though I might drop dead on my feet."

Her gaze lingered on her daughter's face meaningfully, and once again, the image of Sterre's dead body flashed through her mind.