Rivaini has been a tougher nut to crack. Solomon was easy - so simply undone, with the gentle sway of her hips and a flutter of her pale lashes, tethered to her with sweet words and a promise. Faolain was harder, more aloof, but Çiçek delighted in bringing out the lighter parts of her personality, shining her sunny demeanor on the shadows within and finding shimmering jewels. The palomino knows Rivaini the least, the painted mare difficult to pin, what with her constant movement and guarded nature, but that day on the beach in autumn has lessened Çiçek’s hesitation in reaching out for her. It might have been an act, a ploy to remind the Cove’s ruler of the prize he’d failed to truly capture for himself, but something lurked behind it all. Her faith in that is only reinforced by the mirth that turns up the corners of Rivaini’s eyes, even as her voice turns sharp, and Çiçek breaks out in a high bark of laughter at her words. “Saçma!”“Bullshit!” she starts, her eyes glittering. “If *my* memory serves correct, my lady, you *participated* just as much as everyone else -”

A voice cuts through to them. Her gaze shifts as she turns, head swiveling, to rest upon the sight of the stallion coming towards them. Çiçek’s nostrils flare, catching his scent; not foreign, like Solomon’s - in actuality, something about it smells… familiar? She has caught it around the Ridge, often mingled together with the scents of Siobhan’s foals, but he reminds her of someone else she knows, though she can’t quite put her finger on who. In the next breath she gets her answer, and she watches their bickering with amusement in her expression, her head tilting a bit to the side. It’s true, they don’t look like siblings… but Çiçek wouldn’t really know what a sibling relationship was supposed to look like, anyway, both by appearance and in the form of emotional ties.

She had grown up, functionally, as an only child. Her only kin, an older brother by the name of Larkspur, she’d heard of solely through stories given by her dam. He had been grown and long gone by the time she was born. Their wandering, nomadic lifestyle wasn’t the best for fostering close relationships with any other foals in the herds they visited, and though Çiçek had no problem making friends, the kind of lasting bond that grows from a shared childhood had always evaded her. It was one of the few things she wasn’t sure she could make for herself, as much as she wanted to. The spotted mare’s thoughts turn, briefly, to her unborn. If she can’t give herself that experience, then maybe, if the timing is right, she can give it to her children, so that when she is gone they will have someone to hold onto like Rivaini and Iscariot have held onto each other.

Çiçek’s eyes flick over the stallion’s pale form. She notes the slenderness of his limbs, the surprising tenderness in the way Rivaini handles him, but what she settles on, her ears perked up in curiosity, are the bright flashes of color waving in his wind-tousled mane. “Iscariot,” she greets him, her tones warm and heavy with contemplation. She reaches across Rivaini’s strong back, stretching her nose out for an exchange of breaths, and smiles. “I *love* your feathers.”

Çiçek presses along the length of Rivaini’s other side, resting her head just below her guardian’s white-striped withers. She does it as much to look coyly at the stallion from under her lashes as to trap Rivaini in place lest she get any funny ideas about avoiding whatever activities Çiçek has in store. “I think your sister would look just *splendid* with some colorful accents in her hair, too, don’t you?” The curious smile upon her face shifts to a wide, wicked grin. “Here, Rivaini, I’ll even let you add some to mine, *even though I won,*” she adds, “so that we all match.” One ear flicks to the side, even as she presses closer to the mare and tightens her grip, listening for any errant teeth that may come for her in the wake of her surely-unwanted suggestions. The dunalino is determined in her desire to paint Rivaini in the hues of their shared homeland, and with Iscariot’s knowledge - and, hopefully, his help - she won’t have to chase her to the ends of the earth and back to do so.