the towering black mare is dismayed, having just barely regained her freedom… she wishes the world would cease its ugly turmoil. she craved peace so badly now. her heart is in a state of disarray, troubled by her relationship with kunžak … and her mind still feels somewhat broken, laid bare and broken by the torrent of rage she let wash over her during her time in the lagoon. it is easy though, to rise to her sisters call to arms. her warriors heart and spirit burst in to flame at the sound, ready to face any bodily harm to protect her rodina, her new family, and to stand for what is right. this sense of honor is like a force of gravity to her in a world that has treated her so poorly at times. it tethers her and guides her, empowers her and enslaves her all at once.

she has no words to speak, only offering silent nods, solemn and fierce ,in agreement that they must stand on the side of equality and freedom. she does not know the mare macabre speaks of, this persephone but she trusts the small chestnut mare. she trusts that she would not send the sisters of the peak off on such an escapade lightly and so she does not hesitate. with a bellowing cry she dives into the tepid water beside her sister

she is careful not to outpace the smaller mare, she does not know the way. when macabre crests the shore Božena is right beside her. as they pull themselves from the surf she offers a quick touch of reassurance on the macabres shoulder, her nostrils flaring wide with anticipation of what lay before them. she had never been to war but she was built for it. and she would defend what was right. she lets loose her own bellow below, the screech of a dragon before it descends upon its prey, and charges forth.