The clouds above Crossing Isle were thick and grey. Oswin paused to look over them, studying their swell and wondering if today would see snow. For now only the hard, heavy cold of winter clung to Crossing, and Oswin wondered if this would stall the comings and goings of island natives or newcomers from the Mainland. Her own nieces and nephew would not dare leave the Bay during this season, as Tinuvel’s dark waters tossed and turned with furious storms driving them. Instead they’d be tucked far inside the mountains, near the hot springs, waiting out the wretched blizzards until spring broke through.
She needed to go and see them again and see how they were doing. Oswin would like to imagine she could travel come spring but, just like the year prior, she knew she couldn’t. Idly she glanced at the subtle swell of her abdomen and knew it would only grow outward in the coming months. Another foal. Apprehension stabbed her gut, but excitement tangled there too. Oswin wasn’t a traditional mother, but she did love her daughter with all she had, and she was excited to be a mother again.
Oswin walked idly through the trees, leaving the foothills at the base of the Peak temporarily behind. The last thing she wanted to do was become complacent, especially with wretched stirs among the mud of the Lagoon. The Peak needed to be a force now more than ever, with the islands reawakening the newcomers needed to understand they had allies to reach to if ever they felt oppressed. Oswin needed to keep a sharp eye for anyone – stallion or mare – forcing anyone to do something they did not want.
So she traveled to the Commons, one of the most potentially wretched places for newcomers to stumble upon, and peered with hard blue eyes at the figures around her. It was fairly empty – leaning to her suspicion winter would slow travel – but she caught sight of a lone black and white mare who seemed to have just arrived. There was a comfortability about her, though, rather than a shaken fright as if she’d come to this place and knew nothing of it. Intrigued, Oswin whickered gently to her and started forward, smiling kindly upon approach.
“Hello, I’m Oswin, Prime Minister of the Peak. Are you…” She smelled so strongly of the sea, but Oswin couldn’t help but think this wasn’t her first time on the islands. “Are you off the Mainland?”
oswin
this is as brave as I know how to be.
I know it’s gonna hurt you, but please… be a little proud of me.