Heavily feathered hooves pounded against stone and dirt as Adelheid moved over the high and lowlands of the Peaks. Bit by bit the captured stallions started to trickle into the grips of the Vulcans and Adelheid’s teeth clenched bone-breakingly hard at the sight. These were not the stallions that had wronged her so many years ago. Many of them had, however, been the rapists, theives, liars, and scum that had brought a foul name to the Lagoon. How many years had it been that women feared the presence of the ‘bachelor’ herd? How many mares had fallen victim to being their captive.

Then there was the war to consider. Lives had been stolen and destroyed. The past had been broken and now the Lagoon and the Peak involved themselves in the affairs of the islands. It had cost the Peak a price that cut deep, but the war had been won and a precedent had been set. Adelheid could feel the change on her skin. Just as the warmth of the sun was returning to the world, heat started to simmer in her blood. As she moved through the coniferous trees of the mountains her eyes flashed for the signs of their ‘guests’, careful to keep tabs on the captives.

She had seen the golden form of the stallion move at ease up the slopes and followed at a distance, slowing her own pace. He had unconsciously, she assumed, gone to a cliff where many had met before to discuss fate. Picking her way carefully, she made it up to the ledge and studied the two before her with a quirked ear. She recognized Kyuubi and hoped the vulcan sister would calm slightly with the presence of another Peak mare at her side. Dark blue eyes turned to the stallion, face turning slightly as she noted his relaxed and poised body language. Her own body, unfortunately, still did not know the meaning of relax. Proud body stood tall, head raised and muscles poised at attention as opposed to aggression. She knew the mares had the upper hand, and a missteps on the cliffs could end in a literal downfall.

Kyuubi. She greeted the mare in her usual prickly cold tones. The stallions are here as our… whatever they want to be. Guests, captives, trinkets, companions… Adelheid figured eventually the captive stallions would show themselves as who they were. Some would surely be in the Peak peacefully, enjoying the spring and welcoming the companionship that could be offered by peace. Others, she knew, would show their colors and be the true captives, finally to be held accountable for their crimes. This stallion, however, clearly had years behind him and a pose that spoke of confidence that came from history and experience. This was not a time to act rash. The mare had to cool her own thoughts and curb her desires. As much as she thirsted for retribution and justice to be served, she had learned a lesson so many years ago on a similar cliff.

Adelheid shifted and exhaled into the chilly air, her dark sides pushing out any animosity she carried. Or so she hoped. You do seem to have something to say. Few would come this high up and to here just for fun. Growing more used to movement and expression, Adelheid’s ears flicked to the stallion and head tilted invitingly. She was clearly not here to fight and was interested to see what this stallion had to say for his brethren.