curiosity is the lifeblood in feuerherza’s veins. it has driven her here, to the isles, and soon it will have driven her to the base of the mountains below the peak. the jagged silhouette on the horizon had issued a challenge to her as plainly as if it had spoken aloud and she could not let that challenge go unanswered.

it is a few days after her encounter with the young stallion at the meadow, with the weather growing colder. the briskness in the air is invigorating and she feels even more excitable than usual. in the early morning hours she makes up her mind, casting one last glance around the meadow, bathed in the soft purple light of dawn, before taking her leave.

herza walks quickly, with purposeful steps, toward the looming mountain on the northern end of the crossing isle.

she does not feel the press of winter in the same way some mares seem to. perhaps because of her wild nature or maybe it was her disability, it had been widely assumed that she would never settle well into a herd. she didn’t necessarily agree, not outright at least, but playing dumb had removed some of the burdens of maturity from her shoulders. feuerherza wasn’t averse to the idea of love, of finding someone to spend her life with… but she wasn’t content to settle. the idea of being a face in a crowd of mares, largely pushed to the back because of her inability to speak, was a great concern. she is content to spend her time exploring and meeting new faces rather than seeking a home and love. any trouble that might find her, roaming alone as a solitary creature, would be a welcomed trial.

her dark brown eyes drink in the winding rocky path up the mountainside. a thrill blossoms in her chest as she begins the climb, muscular hindquarters propelling her upward with little struggle. her large black hooves clatter satisfyingly against the trails rocky surface and soon she can feel the familiar and welcomed burn in her muscles. the higher she climbs the more she notices offshoots of the main trail, leading to small meadows and little copses of trees. by mid morning she is ready for a break and so she pulls to a halt.

herza had put her steely determination to work the entire climb, careful not to glance behind and see the view her new elevation offered before she was ready to drink it in fully. when she finally does turn, facing out over the switchbacked path and the valley below, she feels her jaw gape slightly. it is beautiful.