Siobhan paces the beaches of their beautiful home most nights now. As the time to retrieve the children draws closer, her worry increases exponentially. Like rabbits, her worries multiply each time she considers them until they drive her mad with the unknown and terrible dangers.

Sleeping was not an option, most nights.

Normally by the time the sun rose on the Ridge, the red mare was too exhausted to do much more than stare at it blearily until it's warm rays coaxed her into fitful napping. Day sleeping was different from night sleeping. In the light hours, she could hear the rest of her herdmates living life in the background. It reassured her that while there was much wrong in this situation, there was a little shred of right.

Her pale hooves left divots on the beach as she traveled, quickly filling with the water that lapped lazily at her ankles. She did not miss the sea. It's cold embrace did not thrill her, as it seemed to do for Bjorn. The sea and it's angry gods were a gamble to her, a roll of the dice against the grim reaper and she'd sooner not risk her life or her unborns against their wrath.

But she couldn't leave the foals.

Their lives were worth it, if for nothing else. And while she wasn't entirely sure that she could do much to assist the strong warriors that all planned to attend - Bjorn, Ysabel, Nyiamara - their argument that even the untrained masses could help by simply overwhelming their enemy with numbers had won her over. She'd go, if only so that they would know she supported the herd. She, as much as the next, would like to take exact revenge for the heartache each of her companions had worn on their faces for the past few weeks, for the children that were alone and afraid in a new land, for the despair that had wormed it's way into their hearts and destroyed relationships.

As much as any of those things deserved vengeance, it was not Siobhan's way to rend flesh from bone. Still the red girl does not hope to find a peaceful solution to this. It is beyond peace. Beyond apologies or negotiating. Their cruelty demands blood sacrifice, as primitive as it sounds.

The night is still heavy, and sleep still very far away when the spotted girl comes across her Bera Konung and a new mare. A twinge of jealousy, it's sharp edges still foreign to her, pluck at her heartstrings before she quiets them. She has no claim over the grullo stallion, and knows that she cannot steal all of his kisses. The thought of his comfort tonight though, as her sleepless worry consumes her every step, is almost like a heady drug. One she should resist, to be fair to the other girl. Longingly, she watches from a distance and then the girl turns, angling her path so that she might not disturb them when something about the scene tugs at the edges of her thoughts. They were so similar to each other in build, even moreso than Poka had been, that she wonders if perhaps it is not another mare. Perhaps this stranger may be family?

For a moment, Sio lets her selfish thoughts run free and she whickers to them, the sound quiet in the night. She does not wish to wake the other denizens of their tropical home. Then she starts toward them, hesitantly at first, until the thought of not taking the comfort of Bjorn's company in this restless night becomes unbearable. The mare can hiss at her if she wishes, but Sio was not in the mood to dismiss her own needs.

The red mare settles almost apologetically at Bjorn's other side, her muzzle reaching out to brush against his shoulder familiarly before she turns her honey gaze to the other mare. "Forgive my interruption. I couldn't sleep."

It's hardly an excuse for interrupting them, but for once she doesn't care. She favors Bjorn with a smile before turning back to the other mare. "I hope you don't mind. My name is Siobhan."