Elodie offers her sisters a friendly smile, but notices the immediate unease of the feathered mare and the sigh of relief from Macabre. As if they were to be attacked for intruding in the Ridge. "Macabre of the Peak, are welcome in the Ridge anytime you please. I offer my home for you to rest your weary hooves." She turns her attention to the feathered mare as she introduces herself. Rowena. "Rowena, you are welcome in the Ridge anytime you please."

They both had lived here but the one word that caught the mares attention was the Peak. What was this place? "What is this Peak?" She questions. Her dark nostrils quiver as breaths in their feminine scent. There was no musky waft of a stallion scent on their coats. Perfect. "Are you ruled by a Stallion?" She questions, her bicolored eyes gauge their reaction as she asks the questions.

How would they answer?

Her dark tails flicks over her spotted hindquarters as she waits for the answers to her questions. She believes that other mares would soon see the value in her culture. They could rise up against the regime, the shackles that had been around the ankles for so long. Times were changing. Soon her sisters would be free. A smile touches her dark lips at the thought.