Common

There was not much of a scent to go off of. A few times Sæunn caught little hints of Nadine, but mostly the black mare had been washed away by the rain. She sighed, nearly ready to just let her friend go to live her life as she had chosen, but had not quite given up searching when a furry brown shape nearly collided with Sæ’s own golden flank.

The little mare swore, and Sæunn, who had looked up at the disturbance anyway, shot her head up even further. ”Hvað sagðirðu?” What did you say? It was a rhetorical question; the palomino exclaimed not because she could not understand the Yakut, but because she could. Still in amazement, she accepted the breath from the other mare and offered her own.

When the other mare apologized, Sæ shook her head, messy white forelock sweeping across her muzzle. ”Þetta er allt í lagi,” she reassured. ”Little language,” she attempted, her accent heavy, the words coming stubbornly. ”Valka,” she repeated. ”Sæunn. For small; Sæ.” Pleased with herself for the scant bit of broken English she was able to muster, Sæunn resumed her excitement at being able to speak to someone who knew the same language. She came from generations of nomads, and though her parents kept the language of her homeland, she did not know much of her heritage. She had grown up in the Pyrenees Mountains, and any other horse she ran into spoke only French, which she had begun to pick up before leaving.

She never thought she would encounter someone outside of her own tight-knit family who spoke the language of her home.

”Er þetta þitt heimili?” Is this your home? she asked, wanting to ask a million questions but not wanting to overwhelm Valka, who she already considered her new friend. It was uncharacteristic of the golden roan to be attached so quickly, but she considered this an exception, under the circumstances.

ooc: I don’t know how to do the thing where you rollover text to translate it, considering I almost exclusively write on an iPad D: sorry about the many translations lmao