herza usually considered herself particularly nimble in her ability to read others. it was her experience, likely because she spent so much time trying to figure out ways to communicate her own thoughts through posture and unspoken languages, that discerning the moods and intentions of her acquaintances came quite easily. such was not the case in this particular interaction. with a passionate curiosity she studies the stranger, dark eyes losing their previous edge. the view before them is nearly forgotten as she takes in the beautifully bold white markings and pale eyes of the stranger. herza notices quickly when the mare takes account of herself, her features darkening with annoyance. slender black ears twist in concern for a moment before the painted mare speaks, setting her at ease.

she offers a blossoming smile, a tiny bob of her head in encouragement, and watches as the stranger tries to release her tension. she sees the way the mare beside her attempts to mirror her stature and she is heartened, glad to be of help even if it is in this small way. her smile widens as a chuckle breaks from the mare’s pale lips and, feeling somewhat comical herself, herza gives a full body shake. there was nothing more relaxing than indulging in one of those nose to tail shakes.

she keeps her eyes on the figure beside her, wondering what the source of such a deep rooted tension might be. herza wore her heart on her sleeve in many ways. she was used to being unguarded and open… the lanky black mare was lucky, she knew, that she had lived such a privileged life… it was likely only this that afforded her the luxury of such emotional freedom. the stranger before her had almost seemed imprisoned by her anxiousness at first glance… at risk of losing the opportunity of friendship if she had desired it. herza felt her heart thud painfully for the stranger, vowing inwardly that if she could be a friend to the mare, she would.

one of her many curiosities is relieved, and her dark ears listen raptly, when the mare beside her begins to explain. herza finally lets her eyes break from the warring features of the painted figure and glances again up the mountainside. the peak. it was a fitting name indeed. and a haven for homeless mares? she tips her head, intrigued, wondering if it was fate that had driven her up this rocky path. this would be a safe place for her while she decided what direction her future lay in.

she was distracted by the view, the winding path that seemed to continue forever up the rocky hillside until it merged with the horizon itself…. when she hears the swish of the stranger’s tail and an apology herza quickly turns her attention back. she smiles again, in a soft encouraging way, shaking her head as if to say, no harm…. she bobs her muzzle in the other mare’s direction, nudging the air around her rather than impeding on her personal space, urging her to continue.

herza listens on intently when the mare does continue, with much effort it seems. she notes the passion in her voice, the way pride seems to sneak subtly into the strangers posture. it is a magnificent idea, one she thought she should be proud to take part in. herza also hears something akin to hope… but more… desperate… the need to believe in something. it made her wonder again, what the painted mare had been through to end up here in this haven herself…

feuerherza shakes her head when the stranger asks her if she had been to the other islands, stretching out her lean neck and gesturing to the meadow below and then to the sea far beyond it. she had come from the mainland. far and away. she had been wondering her next move, uncertain as to where she might call home, but having heard the explanation of this place, and set eyes on the magical view it could offer her, she feels something click. it is a split decision, made in the moment, but herza lowers her head, curving it deeply inward to gesture to herself and then pushes her muzzle outward gesturing to the mountainside surrounding them. she would like to stay here, for the time being.