mare; icelandic x vanner; 14.2hh; palomino roan sabino
3 years
no home
It was not exactly a sheltered life Sæunn had lived, but she was young, and had little social experience. She would not have truly understood Valka’s aversion to the Common even if she had the words; in a way, the tension that took hold of the chestnut mare was a better translation of the danger than either of their tongues, however familiar, could provide. Sæunn’s fluffy golden ears flicked back in distaste, and her own muscles twitched in a shudder. Whatever it was that was wrong with the Common, she wasn’t interested in finding out firsthand.
”Tinuvel,” she repeated. She had not bothered to try with the Common after hearing Valka’s difficulty with the syllables, but Tinuvel was not as bad. ”Er það langt?” she asked, watching as the Yakut stepped closer and allowing her to tidy up her platinum mane. Sæunn returned the gesture by getting to work on the salt in Valka’s thick fur. The two of them were stiff with brine, leading the palomino to wonder what Valka had been doing in the ocean. Was Tinuvel not a part of this island?
Sæunn allowed herself to be groomed, ducking her head slighty for the chestnut mare to neaten her wild forelock. She missed the scowl on Valka’s face, but sensed the tension in her body once again. Clear blue eyes peeked out from beneath the progressively smoother forelock. ”Er eitthvað að?” she asked. Her ivory tail swept against her flanks, long enough to drag in the grass. She had no concept of Valka’s past, or her current troubles; she had led an easy life, though perhaps a rather lonely one. Sæunn had never experienced herd politics, for her family’s hierarchy had been simply that the children must listen to their parents, and Sæunn was the only child. She was allowed some freedom, and had chosen to spend most of it with Nadine. They had managed to get into trouble together despite their lacking modes of communication.
It had been simple, boring, and safe. Sæ had left due to all of those reasons. She did not have much ambition, or at least never had the opportunity to develop it. She had mild wanderlust, and a great sense of curiosity. But mostly she had just been bored. It was odd, feeling as though she did not have a personality now that she’d stepped out of the safe little bubble of her home. Sæunn realized she had been extremely lucky to run into Valka first, the only luck she’d had so far in this journey. Overhearing other conversations in the dreaded Common confirmed this; she could understand only a small handful of words exchanged by these strangers amongst themselves. If she had not nearly bulldozed the Yakutian mare, she may have had a less than pleasant encounter with someone she could not understand; someone with far less patience for communication, and other intentions that did not require so many words.
”Ég er heppin að nánast ferðast yfir þig í dag,” she said with humor in her tone. The mirth was short-lived, however, as the realization dawned that she only escaped the first part of the trouble. She was still in an unfamiliar place with no way home, without her one friend; though, at least, she hoped Valka was a new one. ”Hvað geri ég núna?” she asked, partially to herself and partially hoping for advice. In their brief conversation, she had learned their native tongues were not identical, just overlapping enough for basic conversation, but it was still enough. Sæunn wondered what kind of life Valka lived here. She probably did not have time for Sæunn to follow her around to chat, and the roan mare dreaded being left alone with the strangers. She inched closer to Valka without realizing it, continuing to groom the thick chestnut fur despite scraping the last of the salt away a while ago.
Er það langt? Is it far?
Er eitthvað að? Is something wrong?
Ég er heppin að nánast ferðast yfir þig í dag I’m lucky to have tripped over you today
Hvað geri ég núna? What do I do now?
Sæunn
