VaLkA

mare / four / chestnut pangare / yakut / 13.0 hh

Even under better circumstances, the Yakut could never have been happy to find herself in such a place. As her thick coat could attest, Valka was a creature of the cold - as ill-adapted to surviving in the tropics as some of these creatures might have been in her tundra homeland. Had she understood the exchange that took place between Grier and Gnome, the chestnut would have wholeheartedly agreed - and weighed in with some words of her own, few of which were suitable for any kind of company. As it was, the downward twist of her lips and agitated dance of her blonde tail clearly expressed what the diminuative mare thought of her new home.

Then the dark stallion reappeared, and her features darkened even more.

Narrowing her gaze, Valka gave a derisive snort in response to the stallion's greeting, flattening her ears until his attention was focused on the other mare. At that point she did edge closer to the gathering, if only to make it easier to distinguish one syllable of speech from the next. The Yakut's current vocabulary might be limited to a small handful of words, but she was never going to learn if she didn't at least listen to the conversations swirling incomprehensibly around her. At least she could read the unspoken language of the others' bodies easily enough to understand that she was not the only unenthusiastic addition to Rougaru's herd.

To the painted pony's credit, she did not allow Valka's glower to put her off extending every courtesy to the chestnut mare. So the Yakut brushed lips with her - still glaring balefully at the pale-maned stallion as she did. If they were alone, perhaps Valka would have allowed the tension to ease from her body, and would have settled into sorting out the salt-crusted mess of her coat as best as she could. But she did not trust the smiles or silky-smooth voice of her captor. Like the novichak who had brought her here, Valka could only judge the stallion by his actions - and what she had seen so far did not impress her. Though she had bargained with her own life and freedom more than once as polinitsa, it was a novel experience being offered up as an apparent pound of flesh from one monarch to another. The act didn't exactly endear her to either party involved.

Any king could accept tributes from lesser men, and any coward could hope to pay for peace with the coin of another's freedom.

"Menya.. name Valka." The Yakut offered to Grier, understanding enough words in her inquiry to respond haltingly with her name. While she spoke, her softened gaze met the other mare's, and her body language became more open, more inviting. As soon as it returned to Rougaru, however, her posture stiffened once again, and the upper half of her lip curled as if in response to an unpleasant taste. The other stallion she paid no heed beyond the occasional glance, sensing that he held little part in this struggle. It was the silver bay who held the power here, and Valka was determined to express in whatever ways she could that while he might possess her physically, he could not command her loyalty - or her regard for him.

It was up to Rougaru to prove whether he was a better ruler than the boy who'd unceremoniously dumped her here.