a new world hangs outside the window
beautiful and strange
it must be I've fallen awake
I must be

Wasp's jaws parted and her lips peeled back to reveal two rows of yellow, blunt teeth. She yawned dramatically, a large huff of an exhale rolling out over her lopsided tongue as she further settled into her relaxed position. She looked over at Ivar from behind her half-open amber eyes. He was still so prickly, even after all this time. She snorted once in amusement over his antics, but Wasp guessed she couldn't really blame him. He was still stuck in enemy territory, after all.

Her ears pricked forward as something about the dark stallion's demeanor changes, and he finally offers her an honest and genuine answer. "Norðurland." She repeated out loud, butchering the foreign dialect along the way. But Wasp is hooked - she's fascinated to learn more about where this hardy, skilled stallion came from. "That sounds like a long ways away from here." She offered with the gentle flick of her thick, black tail.

But she nodded respectfully, as Ivar tells her about his family's warrior culture.

When he asked about her own upbringing, the mare's ears flicked forward and back atop her skull. Her story was hardly as exotic and impressive. But she was proud of it, nonetheless. "I'm from here." She said nonchalantly. "My mother has long been a member of the Peak herd. I don't know much about my sire. I met him once." She stated. All of a sudden she felt strangely vulnerable. She hadn't shared this information with many before. But for some reason, she felt comfortable in Ivar's company. She felt like she owed it to him to be honest. "I learned from my fellow warriors here in the Peak."

W A S P