pregnancy did not suit her. she was loathe for the added weight and the discomfort of carrying foal. she thought it unnatural and far more a burden than others had let on. blessed child, she'd always heard. and now? she cursed the day she met bahadir--as much as she'd come to enjoy his company. after all, it was his doing she was in this condition. still, it seemed miraculous she'd no longer have reason to be alone. she had missed her twin greatly in the time she'd been on the peak. and though these were kindnesses yet to come, she was eager to return to fighting form.

and so, as she wandered waddled along the territory, she mumbled heated curses beneath her breath. doing so, she nearly missed the arrival of the would-be fugitive. it was a subtle glimpse in her peripherals where she caught the stranger's figure. amunet paused, and with her neck craned, she watched the mare venture along their borders. her sight narrowed on the mare, focusing on the manner in which she traveled. she seemed to be new to their peak, and perhaps a recruit, in her mind. having been that individual herself not that long ago, amunet approached.

her voice carried loud as she took her steps: "are you wounded?"

amunet could not find any evidence to believe so, but in the stranger's eyes lingered an element of desperation. this was not something amunet was a stranger to, and though she'd never been one to seek out the comforts of idle chatter before, she approached the mare. she seemed in fine health, albeit a shade harried. amunet could not place the face nor scent, and so treated her as she would have any recruit approaching the peak.