It didn't take long for a mare to approach. Jasiri eyed her careful step and worn body, wondering if this was who she was looking for. "I am looking for a mare named Inka," she stated hesitantly. This dark mare was a draft, and she had not heard about any other drafts living on this mountain. Unless the horse she cornered by the waterfall had neglected to mention a few more important facts. Like Inka's age.

She turned her head to the side to observe the old mare with one eye. The mare looked strong enough for her age, but the silver mare doubted she could survive the swim to the Inlet. Jasiri still didn't know what winter would be like in her home. She could only assume it would be horrendous. Her neck arched a little more as she turned her head back to its normal position, shifting her haunches.

Then again, the old draft could probably survive in the Inlet if she reached it. Areo Hotah would look after her, and as more drafts joined the herd they would look out for each other. Together they would be powerful and safe from anything that dared to oppose them.

"I am Jasiri. I have a proposition for her." She took a deep breath and continued, "and for you, and any other drafts on this mountaintop." Whether this was Inka or not, the mare was still a draft. Drafts had to stick together; Jasiri would not deny one this opportunity even if her gut clenched in disagreement.