Adelheid’s dark blue eyes watched as the painted mare before her shook uncontrollably. The warrior could only understand the depth of the emotion she was feeling, but only ever having experienced it through anger. The grief and the pain it seemed as though the mare was feeling had visibly taken hold on her features. The scrapes on her pale legs, the dirt and the mud blending in with her coat and flicking over her blanket to give the illusion of more spots. It was strange for Adelheid to witness the heartache of another and not feel the cold she had when she had looked into the tear streaked face of her mother so many years ago.

Adelheid felt her heart skip a beat in her chest when Iris’ voice touched her ears. The cracked voice laced with a sense of helplessness and sorrow was far to familiar to the hardened mare. She could feel her walls build themselves around her very being with every breath she took. At the same time she remembered her deep seated desire to go back in time and reach out to her mother, give her life of one last breath. She looked at the broken mare in front of her, dark features as passive and cold as ever as her insides twisted, raged, and rebelled against herself.

Still trembling, the hurting mare turned. Adelheid could not tell if she had unconsciously moved to catch her, or if she had simply been there, but suddenly they stood flesh to flesh and Adelheid had become a support she had never dreamed she could be. So few had touched her skin without a seething hiss, a snake-like bite, or a heavy blow. The adults who had managed to earn the privilege had done so almost effortlessly and understood the rarity of her bodily touch. This mare, who did not even know her name, leaned against her in a time of need. Uncertain and unbalanced, Adelheid stood her ground, knowing at the very least she could be a pillar to lean on.

At last, the spotted mare gave a name and Adelheid committed it to memory. Iris told her story, the Codebreaker took it in with a sharp intake of air. If there was anything that would set the Vulcan into action it was when a mare was taken. The first instinct to grip her was to march to the northern waters and hunt down the missing mare. But with the press of the woman against her body she was immobilized by both body and a conflict of emotions.

Iris’ face pressed against Adelheid’s neck. The dark mare felt as though she could not draw a breath. Her body was frozen but still on fire. Had either of her children come to her with a surface cut or a mild complaint she would have comforted them to the point they would both know they would not die and then send them on their way with possibly a nudge of encouragement. What was pressed against her neck was something so entirely different Adelheid did not know what she could do to change this situation or even how to speak to or comfort the mare. Hesitantly, she draped her head over the mare’s shoulders, trying to give her the feeling of an embrace.

I have not seen your sister. she replied, her tone as cool as it always was, unable to give voice to the feelings writhing in her breast. But I will help you find her. She stepped away just enough to get a better look at Iris. As I said, it is late. I followed your trail all day. There is a creek and a clearing you can rest until you are ready. She took another step back, feeling more as though she were able to stabilize herself with a little bit of distance. Still, her muzzle reached out, gently brushing against the mare’s neck, hoping the offered touch would assure Iris she could trust her.