a new world hangs outside the window
beautiful and strange
it must be I've fallen awake
I must be

The thick dark mare's whimpers began to wane as the tears slowly stopped streaming. She cried until there was nothing left in her to cry anymore. But before her despair began to dissipate, she could feel Božena's presence around her. It wasn't maternal, like Macabre's or even some of the other Peak mares, like Jetta's had been. Wasp was old enough to know that the mare was trying to help, in her own way. But just feeling her there, standing behind her made her angry. The younger mare buried her face in the tall grass, in an effort to show Božena she had no interest in her company. But still, the tall mare stood stoically over her. Wasp groaned and snorted in response, feeling a heat rising in gut and chest.

Then Božena had the nerve to talk. Wasp's ears instinctively laced back against her poll as she listened. Even the exotic tones of her accent made Wasp's blood boil in this moment. She was immature and young, this is true. But this was also the first real loss or trauma the filly had ever experienced in her life. As such, her young mind searched quickly for something or someone to blame. Obviously, Cullen came easily. But he wasn't here, he wasn't physical enough. Wasp could feel the hysteria gripping at her again, her throat tightening and another round of wet tears threatening to spill. She snorted again and rolled quickly back onto all fours, giving her dark coat a good shake before turning to face the larger, taller Božena again.

Then she exploded.

Božena was an easy target. "This is all your fault!" She said bluntly, narrowing her amber eyes on the other mare and flicking her tail almost violently over her haunches. "You were supposed to protect her. You failed." She said sternly.

Wasp barred her yellow teeth at the mare, threatening her to stay away before she tore off down the forested path, climbing to a higher elevation under the stars, somewhere where hopefully Božena wouldn't be able to find her.

She cried again, later and almost effortlessly, after she scaled boulder after boulder for hours. She trekked as far up the mountain as she's ever had, her wide flat hooves taking careless steps over the loose peddles and rocks and around winding, skinny turns. Finally she collapsed in a small patch of hardy brush, the leaves delicate and dried out at this time of year and this high up, but the spindly, twisty branches carved and poked at her hide. But Wasp didn't care. She was angry and melancholy and the more the sharp points of the shrub branches dug into her, the more she felt at least a little bit alive.

She didn't sleep much over the course of the next several hours. Instead she was left alone with her sad thoughts. Her anger soothed itself over this time, and slowly but surely a pitting feeling of guilt grew stronger in her stomach. Before this debacle, Wasp very much admired Božena, even though she didn't know her well. Božena was strong and tall, not unlike Wasp in her build. She was a proven warrior and carried herself with confidence of one. Watching Božena sweep in to protect Macabre not once, but twice, had been enthralling and wholeheartedly exciting. Wasp had always admired Oswin too, but there was something about Božena that was more fierce, more unapologetic. Reminding herself of these feelings now, she felt foolish for her earlier outburst.

The sun eventually rose, and Wasp watched it with a sour taste in her mouth. She sighed deeply, feeling too sorry for herself and maybe a bit embarrassed, to fully enjoy the rich colors and scenery of the sunrise at this altitude. She stood on weary legs, now sore from her brash escapade to get all the way up here last night, and began to navigate her way down. If there was one thing Macabre taught her daughter, it was never to run away from her problems or mistakes. The irony of this is lost on Wasp, who obviously never knew her mother before she came one. Macabre spent the majority of her life running, and perhaps always would be, running from something. But she'd known better than to instill the same type of fear and anxiety in her child, if she could help it. So Wasp battled her tired, foggy mind, and kept her eyes peeled for Božena once she reached the valley at the base of the mountain.

She finds her unwavering black frame not far from where the outburst had happened the night before. Wasp nickers apprehensively as she approached, her head low, and her eyes darting from Božena to the grass between her hooves. She lips lazily at some blades of grass to buy some time. She swallows hard and forces herself to look at the other mare. "Good morning." She says unwavering in her tone despite her nerves. "I'm sorry about earlier." The words just slip out, but her amber eyes are somewhere else, watching the trees in the distance. "I just, miss her so much already."

W A S P