Kirova had been in the Thicket until the snow began to melt, and as the wet ground slowly warmed, she watched as Vasilisa faded with the winter. She didn’t know where the black mare went, only that she had been challenged for her territory and fought before disappearing. Kirova lingered in the Thicket for a few days, watching the new stallion who claimed it, before departing. She had no issue with him. The Thicket had never been home, but now she truly had no reason to stay there.
The sea was still cold despite the warming sunlight that glittered over its surface. It was early dawn when she left. The pink horizon bled into the grey ocean, staining the calm crests of waves. Kirova enjoyed this time of morning, and she was ready for her second chapter on the Lost Islands, despite the brevity of her first one. She pulled out of the surf and shook out her mahogany fur, then headed inland.
Following worn paths that webbed the island, Kirova strode into the Commons, the place she had first met Vasilisa. She was drying off quickly, and the sun now warmed her back as it rose over the treetops. The sky was clear. She reached down to pluck at the grass at her hooves, letting her eyes wander the area as she did so, surveying the clusters of sleepy horses that wandered this part of the island so early in the morning. She recognized no one, which was not surprising; she had been whisked away to the Thicket almost immediately upon arriving at the islands. Perhaps now was the time to make some friends.
”...speech”