the reunion that had taken place in the meadow, though joyful it was, had exhausted her. a deep and profound sense of relief seemed to flood through her veins as she looked upon her companion. he seemed to feel the same relief and to her delight she could see the same traces of joy she felt peaking through what had been a once impenetrable veil of despair that covered him. they were both still so deeply wounded, but the injury did not seem so grave as it once did. by each others side it seemed possible at least that they would survive it. she hoped and prayed that each day they would heal each other a little bit more.

Božena had rarely been unsure about anything until having been thrown into life on the lost islands. even as a young filly she had been decisive, confident, and bold. before the depression she had fell into after the peak emptied and she was left alone with only the memory of her brief meeting with kunžak it was a rare thing for her to be caught “off guard” or even uncertain. she was born to lead, not to hesitate or linger or feel out of place. the world was hers if she desired it. she cannot help that feel that the world now has turned upside down and that she is being remade.

for perhaps the first time in her life the huge black mare feels awkward. she feels uncertain, nervous, shy and extremely unprepared. never had she spent so much time in close proximity to a stallion that she was not related to. she had of course met several colts from other rodinas as a young filly, but never without being chaperoned by her watchful bratri. she often wished to speak to him, but it seemed so difficult to coax the words from her lips. what would interest him? would she drive him away? she lived in girlish fear of his abandonment though she knew he would sooner die than break the oath of loyalty he made to her. that was the way of their people. she wishes constantly to reach across the expanse between them to brush her velvet black nose across his shoulder, to reassure herself that he is there still and would not go, but denies herself. her eyes, inky black, follow him when they can, memorizing over and over the convex curve of his head and the angle of his shoulder and hip, the lines of muscle beneath the midnight black coat. they are nearly identical, perfectly matched. this thought eats away at her as she finds herself wondering about the stallion she was destined for in her old life, her snoubenec. how would Kune compare to the one her parents had arranged her union to? would her matka approve? did any of that matter? perhaps he would only ever be interested in her companionship and nothing more… did he find her as attractive as she did him? she could not stop these thoughts any more than a 2 foot levee could stop a tidal wave.

she decided, since there had been little else to do or see, that perhaps it would be best to return to the peak. she dearly missed the steep climb up the mountain side and knew that the exertion might bring some semblance of peace to her mind.

the base of the mountain looked much greener than when she had left and she was even surprised to see some fresh looking hoof prints beating up the muddy path that lead to the high meadows. perhaps the peakwasn't as empty as she had presumed it to be. she throws a chaste glance at kune and offers a suggestion.

if you like we could climb higher? this has been the only home i have known on the islands. it is a safe haven for mares but i'm sure you would be welcome as my guest. it is a rewarding climb.