Rhadra and Izzy turn their heads at almost the same time to see who is approaching at such a rapid pace, the black mare anticipating perhaps the boy's mother and the bay filly innocently inquisitive. Two palominos bear down on them, stallions both, one white of face and the other sporting a duskier hue, and Rhadra understands that they are not here to join the conversation as one drops his head and snakes toward her with snapping teeth. She springs away from the threat instinctively, bolting with a buck and a squeal in the direction of the Falls. She veers left, thinking of the safety held within the green glade and the strength of the bay stallion at her side before she checks herself —he's not there, he's never there— and skids as she changes course again to angle back to the interior of her mountainous home, head up as she lets loose a shrill whistle to call her daughter to her side as not one, but two mares thunder into the fray to clash with the intruders.
When the stallions arrived, Izzy sprang to one side, jostling the piebald boy, and watched without comprehension as her dam was herded away. Breath at her hip and the soft-but-unfamiliar touch of another makes her crowd the yearling colt further and, claustrophobic, Izzy leaps away forward to find space. But she doesn't go far enough: the adult stranger is still there, speaking in a voice that makes her feel both calm and afraid, and the dichotomy of the two emotions sends a sharp shudder through her small frame. When he leans into her with his shoulder she jigs away, inadvertently allowing him to drive her as she swings her head about in desperate search for her mother, her ears flicking out and down as the piebald colt cries out in rage. There is tumult and panic all about her, and as the clamor grows her mother's voice cuts high and sharp above the thundering of hooves and allows Izzy to pinpoint unerringly her stout form as she gallops toward the base of the mountain.
Rhadra is full of fear. She races toward and past her daughter, Izzy springing away from the dusky palomino and falling in at her mother's side, and the two flee as the great black mare and her compatriot descend in united fury upon the raiders at their door. Rhadra slows for a moment and Izzy crowds against her hip, her breath coming hot and fast against her mother's flank, and the mare dips her head to nose her daughter as she locates the yearling colt. He has followed them, thankfully, and she whistles to him now as she did for her daughter, beckoning him away from the chaos as she turns and runs for the safety of the heights.
Only when she and Izzy have climbed the slopes to her favorite familiar vantage point does she halt, standing at the precipice as she catches her breath and stares down at the diminished horses scuffling below. At this distance there will be plenty of warning should they need to climb higher into the peaks and take refuge in the meadow where Isabella was born, near the deep mountain lake hidden high away from here. She tracks the movements of Bozena and Macabre intently to be sure the mares have succeeded in driving the raiders away before her attention turns fully to the children. Izzy is crying, eyes wide in a terrible fright and leaking continuously as she trembles and sobs while pressed tightly against her dam, unable to look away from the conflict below. Rhadra lowers her muzzle to blow reassuring breaths atop her head in soft, soothing puffs, calming the terrible beat of her own heart simultaneously. "Hush now, we're all right," she says, amazed at how steady her voice is when she feels her knees might give out at any moment. This is worse than that long-ago confrontation with the stallion and little Talya— far, far worse.
She shifts her gaze to find the piebald colt, hoping he has followed them to these heights and away from the danger. It is a terrible thing to be alone in the world. "Come here, both of you," she says, moving away from the edge so that Izzy is not so blatantly aware of what is happening below, but not so far that she cannot still monitor the conflict herself. Her daughter crowds her as she follows, then buries her face against Rhadra's shoulder as her crying wanes to sniffles. The black mare runs her muzzle over Izzy's neck, whickering softly, before lifting her head and reaching out to the colt to offer him similar comfort, inviting him to join their embrace. "Are you all right?" she asks him even as her ears strain for any sounds of pursuit. It was stupid of her to leave Collision, she understands that now, and she is deeply grateful for the serendipitous arrival of the two mares. More than ever she understands the importance of the community of a herd, and she vows at this moment that her daughter will have that security when she is a mare grown, if not before.
rhadra