VaLkA

mare / four / chestnut pangare / yakut / 13.0 hh

Winter descended on Tinuvel in a flurry of cold flakes that drifted down from the pale sapphire sky to cover the familiar features of the Bay in a white blanket. But the snow did not remain undisturbed where it had fallen. Every so often, the wind would escape from its shackles, and tear across the tundra in a howling rage that sent the frozen crystals spinning through the air once again, to settle down in deep pockets and drifts against the trees and rocks that littered their home. Valka avoided these traps with the innate sense of one who had been born into such a climate, keeping to the flat open expanse where most of the ground had been swept clean. Though not much snow had accumulated yet, the pony-sized creature would have sunk down to her belly if she’d chanced to step in one of these soft, cold mires.

The Yakut was not unaware of the pale tobiano who wandered the Bay, though she left the other mare undisturbed. Valka had greater things to concern herself with than a nomadic stranger, particularly one who had not yet proven herself to be a threat. The long-reaching consequences of her encounter with Solomon had already begun to make themselves known. The swell of her belly was subtle; easily missed beneath the shaggy auburn coat that insulated her against the cold. But the skjaldmær could no longer deny the life within her, and raged inwardly against the white-and-gold stallion who had started it. She did not want this child, and would never have submitted to the Cove’s king - save the combination of adrenaline, hormones, and exhilaration that had followed her defeat.

Perhaps the fates would choose to be kind, and prove her to be one of the few who could not bring a child to term.

Gloriosiah’s approach and greeting were a welcome distraction from the dark tangle of thoughts and emotions. The Yakutian mare exchanged breaths with her readily, though her small figure was rife with tension, and ready to defend herself. What trust she had gained in the unknown after befriending Bjorn had been lost to Solomon shortly after. “I am Valka. If you call the Bay home, then you must know of Goose.” Guilt bloomed in her chest, heavy and cold. She had spared the draft-like stallion only passing thoughts after everything that had happened, and most of them sour. If Goose had been here, after all, his aid could have easily shifted the sequence of events that had led to her pregnancy. And as unfair as it was to blame the painted buckskin for her misfortune, there was plenty of that to go around - including a hefty share that fell on Valka’s own shoulders.

It was this shame that led her to speak again, her dark brown eyes brimming with remorse. “I am skjaldmær of Bay, but I failed him. Failed herd and self. It does not fix what happen, but I am sorry. And I will make right.” Of course, the burden of life she bore hampered her to that end as well. Having already been defeated by the golden stallion who had taken Goose captive, she could not hope to fare any better as pregnancy slowed her strides and hindered her attacks. Vengeance would have to wait until spring.