Jetta

Later, Jetta would reflect on how funny it was that a single word could change everything. One minute, she was conversing politely with a friendly stranger; the next, a hot wave of realization had washed over her. She stared at Oswin with wide blue eyes and parted pink lips, hardly hearing the rest of what her companion said above the sudden white noise in her brain. Her limbs felt like jelly. Had she hallucinated it? It would not surprise her if she had.

Jetta would never know that the last time she was in the prairie she had missed meeting Oswin for the first time by mere minutes. Upon her family's arrival, she had jogged ahead to locate Valentine while they rested and recovered from their swim, and that was when her family had run into Oswin and a few other horses. Jetta, meanwhile, had failed to located Valentine, and they had left the prairie after a much shorter visit than they had intended. That had been over a year ago, and she had not seen her father since. To this day they did not know where he was.

But she did not mourn him. She had always maintained a friendly relationship with her sire, but had seen him only a handful of times in her short life. He had played no great role other than that of the relative she smiled and exchanged pleasantries with every once in a blue moon. But she did not know the legacy that Valentine had left in the many children he'd sired. She did not know just how many brothers and sisters she had running around in the wilderness somewhere. She had just learned about one of them, however.

"I'm sorry," she finally said in a breathy voice. "Did you say your father is Valentine? The spotted stallion who lived in the prairie? He... He's my father too. That... that makes us sisters, doesn’t it?"