The splashed mare studied her companion closely, growing more and more aware of how closely she needed to watch to see what the other was ‘saying’. She seemed pleased and eager enough, but still a doubt crept into Adelheid’s mind. What really motivated this other to smile at her? Was it pity, or genuine interest. A war crept into the woman’s heart. She deeply desired to trust this other woman, to believe the smile she showed her. Adelheid also would never have wanted to burden someone who could not protest with her presence, or inevitable temper. A gentle sigh plumed visibly from her nose as she internally tried to convince herself to continue to take a chance. Time would tell her if this time she could trust someone, and if she could also be trusted.

A true grin pulled over the mare’s white lips at the enthusiasm written on the black’s face. It was pleasing to see someone who already was as excited about her home as she had been. Follow me. Stay close though… She looked over the black’s shoulder at the cliff, the memory of a corpse falling from the sky flashing before her eyes. I know horses have died when they stepped wrong from the greater heights. But the view was always so magnificent, she would have given so many things to have the sight of the Peak to be the last thing she ever saw. Shaking her head free of these thoughts she spun on her heels to trot further up the mountain’s trail. Her own excitement started to bring a spring to her steps. Anticipation warmed her soul. In the silence between them, she wondered if this was the ‘magic’ she had so often been told about. Not truly something unbelievable, but something breathtaking with no other explanation. Something invisible, but still real.

As they climbed, Adelheid made sure to choose the well-worn paths, knowing full well she and other inhabitants of the Peak had used these specific ones to reach their favorite vantage points. She remembered the time she had come to see the Prime Minister at the time. Impa had been known to choose a specific cliff that would allow her to look down at all of the Peak in Pride. This was where Adelheid had spoken with the mare, the cool of age attempting to soothe the fire of youth. Impa was long gone, but the woman’s spirit still whispered in the summits of the mountains as it did throughout the islands. Each other step they took, Adelheid looked back to make sure her...possible friend...continued to follow and had not fallen behind, or fallen at all.

At last, they reached the cliff. Already dusting with snow, Adelheid’s thick coat was not yet ready for winter temperatures and she knew they would not be able to linger long. But from here they could see the rolling foothills, still holding on dearly to their green hues. The emerald was dotted here and there with equines as others slowly started to return to their homes. Adelheid took interested note in the growing numbers, relieved that souls were starting to come back to the otherwise silent land. The gentle hills were broken by creeks and rivers. A favorite calm creek had a few lingering next to its banks. That had been the home of the fantasies she could never share with her dreamer companions. From here though, she could not deny it peace and beauty in contrast to the rocky cliffs as their backs and their fronts. As the mountains started to rise from the hills so did the pines and large rocks that had come to be the formidable walls and guards for the Peaks inhabitants. It was not too deep into the territory that it started to become unfriendly to outsiders.

I figure showing all of it to you might be better, the longer you stay the more you can get to know each place. Adelheid said, somewhat abashed for not having explained her thought process before. I… I used to come up here to talk to the Prime Minister as she watched the land. My friend and I got caught by stallions once a little bit lower. She pointed back down where they had come, remembering all too well the incident where four angry mares descended upon the stallions in defense of the fillies. Our mothers were…not pleased… Her heart cringed at the memory of Inka. She turned back to the broader view of the terrain. The creeks and rivers are favored places for mothers and foals when they are less...adventurous… Controlled, hard headed, pesky… troublesome… problematic…...and often where people tend to gather. I am Adelheid, by the way. She stopped and blinked. Suddenly realizing there might be no way for her to address this other mare.