Turmoil feeds the wisdom within her. Every struggle the young mare faces serves only to sharpen her view of the world, and to sharpen her tongue. Her own advice echoes in her ears and she hopes it proves true. The sandy-colored mare stands on the shores of Paradise, eyes and ears fixed on the horizon. Dark clouds roll overhead, and a chill wind sweeps across the open beach. A sea-spray dampens her face. She looks for a vision of her mate, returned victorious from battle. Losing is not an option. Liland must be humbled.
His face emerges as a buoy, bobbing on the surf. The nearer Rougaru comes the faster her heart beats. Zjeena watches him climb ashore from her nearby vantage point. She is frozen to the spot, worried by his battle-weary stride, but the shadows pass and she breathes freely once again when Rougaru begins to prance. Only a victor would greet her like that.
The small mare turns to face him, her movements slowed by the burden of her swollen flanks. Pride rises inside her like the tide. "This is my stallion." she thinks to herself. "The father of ALL my future children, my champion." Never again will she widen her stance for the likes of Liland. She is free to love who she will, and she loves Rougaru. There is nowhere she'd rather be than here.
Zjeena moves to meet the tenderness of his touch. The thrill of victory collides with their electric love and reaches a flash point. It lights up the Lost Islands like a supernova. "Well done, my love."