The jungle was going to take some getting used to. The richness was almost overwhelming, though the breathtaking views from the Ridge’s highest point more than made up for it. It was the first place Faolain had sought, and she stood gazing out over the glittering ocean for a long time. Aside from the commotion of the local fauna coming from the trees below her, this spot was quiet, and she relished it; there was a peacefulness here she had never experienced. She wanted to share it with Rivaini, but there were a few other things that needed to be done before she could rest.

Stepping carefully, the slender black mare allowed the jungle to swallow her once again as she descended from the very peak of the Ridge. When she had arrived, the scents of others still mingled with the scents of the jungle, and now she sought out the sources. Faolain was very private, and as much as she would have enjoyed the silence of a territory all to herself and her companions, it was not in her nature to force anyone out of their home. She knew that just by being here she had already begun that process; she was a stranger, an outsider, untrustworthy. Her words could not change the fact that she had marched up the side of the Ridge and claimed a land that was already inhabited.

Still, she wanted to communicate, even if the outcome remained the same. Faolain owed the Ridge herd that much.

The scents here were hard to follow. The life in the thick, humid forest was dense and diverse, and there were so many new scents that Faolain found it hard to navigate and pick out just one. Luckily, she didn’t have to for long; a call rang out among the trees, and it did not come from Rivaini. Faolain took off after it, her small hooves covering the complicated ground with some caution, but she was more worried about her speed. The call had not been very close, but she did eventually find its source when the first clear scent she had come across drifted out of the trees. She slowed her pace, and stepped around the wide trunks to spot a red mare waiting.

Faolain made herself known with a gentle snort. She did not expect to be met with friendliness, but she stepped forward with a bow of her head, waiting to see if the other mare might accept an exchange of breaths if she offered.

Faolain knew she did not need to introduce herself to this mare, who almost certainly knew who she was. Though the Teke did not know the nature of the call she had made, she assumed it was to gather the original Ridge herd and decide what to do. It seemed Faolain was the first to answer. She wondered how many actually lived here; many of the scents she had picked up so far were old, and she had not known there were children living here until now.

"Do you plan to leave?" she asked simply. She did not know what the other mare expected of Faolain, as the outsider who had claimed her home. "This is your home, and I am not a god. I would not ask you to leave," she said. She couldn’t tell if it was hoofbeats in the distance she heard or just the river pounding the mountainside as it ran down. She did not want to avoid the rest of the herd, but this meeting was not for her, and the red mare had not called for Faolain to come and explain herself. With another bow of her shiny black head, the Teke mare began to turn away once again to let the other woman carry on with her business. Faolain had said what she needed to say, though she still lingered close by. If anyone wanted to speak with her, even to express their displeasure at her presence here, the black mare was not hard to find.