As weather tolerant as little Zjeena is, she won't turn down an opportunity to get out of this storm. The conversation goes in a much-expected direction, and the young mare is eager to accept such an invitation. She nods, a gesture both seen and heard through the clattering of icicles in her mane. "Of course."
Zjeena half-shouts over the wind. Driving rains continue to fall, but the darkest of storm clouds are moving on. These horses are no longer two shadows squinting through the darkness. Daylight returns, however diffuse, through a layer of cloud cover. Clear skies approach, a promise of better weather on the horizon.
"Lead the way", she says, turning towards home, a home for them both.