Tension remains, hanging heavy among the trees. It is grown by the uncertainty of darkness and the screams of war echoing all around them. But the tension specifically between these two begins to recede. Like flood waters finding their way back into their banks, Zjeena's tense muscles begin to relax, and her pinned ears find their way forward.
The mare doesn't understand a word this stallion says, but she can understand his body language. It reads clear through the dark of night. He worries over her injury. She shivers under his scrutiny and tries to assure him "It's ok.", though it's unlikely he'll understand. She lowers her head and offers him a soft look to mirror his own.
The foreigner raises a question, motioning towards the sound of a nearby skirmish. How does she explain this war with a language barrier between them?
The sounds of war reverberate all around them. Hooves thunder past at irregular intervals, the brush speaks, and shadows move in the dark. Zjeena searches for the right words or the right gestures to help this stallion understand, but she doesn't come up with the right way to explain before another surprise is upon them.
The mare that crashes into their clearing dwarfs both Zjeena and Skoll, but the startled Zjeena is too anxious to think things through before reacting. In an instant, the fjord mare is facing off with the large intruder. She stands tall on her hind legs, and swipes at the narrow space between them with both forelegs. It is a defensive strike, but a strike nonetheless.
Who the hell is Sestra? What's with these weirdos speaking in tongues tonight? Warsaw thinks he's waged a war against Persephone, but he's waged a war against madness itself. This is madness. All of this. The forest is apparently where everyone goes to lose themselves and all of their marbles. Zjeena has certainly lost hers. She has no idea where she is in relation to her herd mates. She's lost sight of her purpose and instead finds herself trying to communicate with strangers more lost than she is.
"Who?" Zjeena asks as her forelegs find solid ground. Her face reads perplexed but her ears are pinned once more, and muscles recoiled with renewed tension.