she hadn’t quite known what to expect, coming to the isles of her forefathers, or mothers she should say, but she certainly hadn’t expected to fall in love with the majesty of the mountain that lay before her and what it stood for. her mother had died just recently, of old age, though that cause did little to soften the pain of it… she had never told feuerherza about the land of her birth, or her heritage, because like her daughter, hjarta hlustandi had been born mute. it was only through a series of guesses and assumptions her father had realized this place, the lost isles, was where her mother had come from and later told her. the tall dark mare had often seen her mother standing alone, staring thoughtfully northward, as if she was considering her life elsewhere but when asked if hjarta missed her homeland all anyone would receive was a half-hearted shrug. her mother was happy and comfortable with her life, they all assumed, but clearly nostalgic.

ever since she was young, feuerherza had longed for adventure… she desperately wished to know the place her mother seemed to daydream of, and to be shaped by that place as her mother clearly had been…. this curiosity might have been sated if her mother had been able to just tell her… to just describe the arctic tundra of her youth, the impossibly stoic and grand figure her grandfather had been, the strange community and ecosystem of each island and the impressions each had made upon her… but her mother had never truly been able to share her history as mothers normally could, due to her infirmity. feuerherza had taken it upon herself to make this pilgrimage.

she had been drawn to the sleep rocky slopes as she was drawn to almost any obstacle she had ever encountered. while she had anticipated the heady feeling of breathless accomplishment she had felt when she first scaled the mountain paths she hadn’t anticipated the desire to stay, to make a home there, even if she considered it temporary.

it was the mare adelheid who told her about the history of this place and what it stood for. the splashed white mare who seemed to share some of her friesian blood was the only other soul she had encountered yet on it’s rocky trails… herza was eager to meet it’s other occupants but so far she had been too enamored by the view to make her way back down to the more populated foothills.

a storm brewed that day, threatening foul weather, and loneliness had started to chisel away at the resolve she felt to weather the storm. so, casting a wistful glance upward toward the lone peak, feuerherza began her descent. she is quick and graceful, her lithe body moving with an athleticism she has honed over her short years. without the power of communicating with the spoken word, her body is used picking up the slack that her organ of speech cannot.

the black mare pauses on her path downward, dark eyes searching below for a suitable copse of trees to shelter her if the threatening storm comes into fruition. the sight of a masculine black figure winding through the forest below intrigues her and instead of continuing her search, she proceeds downward hastily, hoping to meet him on the trail. moments later her quest is successful. he rounds a bend in the path, stopping abruptly as he sees her and though normally her first instinct would be to approach, something in his expression stops her.

herza stills, staring at the stranger with unveiled curiosity. she studies his features, entranced by the strikingly unique profile of his head. he is like nothing she has seen before. she is also stunned by the way he looks at her, mouth nearly agape, with something akin to longing and confusion locked in his dark eyes. it causes the friesian mare’s heart to stutter. from his dark lips a word falls in a quiet whisper…something unintelligible… and then the spell is broken.

herza shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the thick spell the moment had cast on her. a strange hollow moment passes between them before she is able to raise her inky dark muzzle curiously in the strangers direction, only daring to take a few steps toward him despite her earlier eagerness to interact.