VaLkA

mare / four / chestnut pangare / yakut / 13.0 hh

Valka listened to Medusa without interruption, sensing that the filly needed to vent her frustrations to an audience whom she felt she could trust. At first it surprised the pony-sized mare that she was the one chosen for the other’s confidence . But as Rougaru’s daughter continued on to explain that she had been living in the Inlet, the Yakut began to understand - and empathize with her. If the experience of being handed over to another herd was anything like what Valka had gone through in losing hers, Medusa was likely feeling isolated and depressed. And while she could certainly return to her parents with her troubles, perhaps she felt there was little reason to. They had played their part in selling her freedom for the friendship of another kingdom, just as had been done to the chestnut.

Somehow, though, this situation upset Valka even more. The painted filly was just a child, and children needed the freedom to make their own decisions. Exhaling the breath she’d been holding in a harsh snort - but foregoing any verbal comments for now - the stocky creature turned and began to lead Medusa inland at her enthusiastic agreement. And though the Yakut’s voice was silent, her thoughts and expression were filled with condemnation. After freeing herself from Rougaru and emerging victorious over Goose, she had vowed to do what she could to grant that same liberty to those who still lived in chains but were incapable of breaking their own shackles. And now here was Medusa, a creature in need of such help. The only question that remained was whether she wanted it.

They fell into step easily, naturally - like two old friends rather than the barely-acquaintances that they had been prior to this meeting. Speaking comfortably and honestly, the other’s demeanor led Valka to believe that they would part as friends - and was determined that, irrespective of any attempts Ironclad made to forbid such interactions, she would continue to support the tobiano filly. “Your mother was captive of Liland in Bay?” The shorter female voiced her curiosity, then lapsed into thoughtful silence again. It was disturbing to her, the casual way such subjugation was often discussed - as if it were not only normal, but acceptable to use the feminine gender as leverage or bargaining chips.

Chewing on her tongue to bite back the blistering words she longed to utter, Valka responded instead to Medusa’s inquiry about her own activities. “Yes, very busy. Learn much in short time, but more important, have purpose now.” She drew to a gradual halt, and her dark eyes regarded the filly for a moment before gazing at the mountains of the Cove that loomed in the distance. It was a majestic sight, but one she could not view anymore without thinking of the colts who had come to visit, and the sobering truths that they’d shared. If they were to be believed, Valka had enemies both to the north and the west of her - and few friends to speak of besides this single young mare. Without alliances, the thoughts that she entertained now were dangerous - but she knew that this fact would inevitably change nothing if Medusa needed and wanted her help.

“In my homeland, women not treated like this,” she voiced with a clear note of disapproval. “They are free to choose own path. Not as strong as stallions, but often better fighters. Only mares allowed to protect king, and even those who do not fight are important in own way. Yakuts know that there is no future without them.” Her lips pressed together to again stem a flow of invective, But Valka did brush her whiskered muzzle over Medusa’s shoulder, her dark eyes warm and kind when they found hers. “If you want, just say - and Valka will fight to make you free, too.”

She could not remain still long. The familiar restlessness settled into her stocky limbs, and the fuzzy chestnut resumed her steady trek west, purposely avoiding the direction that the Inlet lay in. She didn’t think Medusa was ready to return home yet, and when the filly was, Valka was determined that it would be her choice - and hers alone. If Ironclad took issue with his betrothed being here in the Bay, then he was welcome to come for her. But if the filly was not inclined to follow, then the skjaldmær would impose a lesson in respect on him with hooves and teeth.