Siobhan's family had not been close to one another, and she had grown up envying all the other close-knit families that sought each other out for companionship. She had wanted nothing so much as to go off and create her own family with a stallion that she loved, and who adored her. Hence why she had conceived Laoise shortly after meeting Diarmaid, and had lived in bliss for nearly a full year of her life before fate had intervened and broken her heart.

The dark months that followed had begun to blend together after a time, and while her loss did not hurt less when she came here, it had at least been distant enough that she could be relatively normal for parts of the day. Bjorn's kindness and the small flame that was Sigurdr had been enough to bring her back to herself, to remind her that joy still existed in the world for her to have, and that it was not a transgression against her daughter's memory to be happy again. In truth, she almost felt as though Bjorn's part in her healing had encouraged her to give him more leeway than she would have to any other man.

Had Ailill been the one to bring Poka ashore, muttering about wishing she'd drowned, Siobhan would not have reacted so placidly. Not that Ailill would have done any such thing, but she could distinctly remember being surprised at this reminder that Bjorn's heart was made of sterner stuff than her own. As a young filly, Siobhan's mother had tried to instill in the red filly that a mare had no place in a stallion's business and that sometimes a leader would have to make hard choices that would not make sense to her. In truth, Siobhan thought now that her mother's warnings had more to do with her own experiences than the world at large.

For while it was true that hard decisions had to be made sometimes, that did not mean that they had to be without compassion.

The red mare pushes away these thoughts again at Çiçek's sorrowful question and she diverts her gaze to the ground, having no good answer. Her own had not wanted to choose either. If she could have somehow found a way to keep both loves in her life, she would have. She could no more willingly cut out Bjorn than she could Ailill, but the grullo had made his choice, and she was doing her best to be thankful that the decision was made now. She did not have to agonize over the what-ifs as she had for months now. Bjorn had chosen Tinuvel and Nyimara, over her and Roisin.

Çiçek's commentary of Tinuvel comes as no surprise to the red mare. Tinuvel had always been depicted as a land of bitter cold with residents as harsh as the land upon which they walked. She knew that the land had to be at least somewhat hospitable considering entire herds lived there, but it was not a place she ever wanted to venture herself. "You won't," she offers with a small smile. "You will always have a home to return to here if things don't go well on Tinuvel. If not with Faolain, then with me and my family."

Although she has not spent an overly long time in the company of this golden mare, Siobhan already can feel that she is the type of mare that she wants as her friend. And she knew that Ailill would take care of her as well, if the need ever arose.

Quiet reigns for a moment as each of them considers their thoughts before Çiçek correctly senses that her mind was troubled. The red mare winces and doesn't reply for a long moment. She does not want to lay her troubles before this mare but the thought of not being the only one to bear them is enticing. It is not that Ailill doesn't understand, although that is part of it, but rather that it is unfair for her to ask him to sympathize with her position. How could she ask him to console her while she grieved her love for another man? It was unfair, and she knew it.

"Nothing that can be fixed, unfortunately." A somber smile crosses her face as she glances back up to the spotted mare. "I know a little of what it is to have a heart torn in two."

There is a long moment that spans as the red mare decides how much of herself that she truly wants to share. It is not as though it were truly secret, although she feels very far away from anyone that would care much about it. Ysabel had come to warn her, but it had already been far too late. Bjorn had already come back and torn her heart in two.

"I lived here before Faolain, with the previous ruler." Her gaze drifts to a point in the distant trees and stays there, her face burning in a mixture of shame and simply being uncomfortable. "Bjorn," she says as her jaw tightens reflexively against the pain. "He was my lover, and the father of my daughter Roisin. I... I ruled at his side until he left us."

Tears pool in her eyes but do not fall, and she draws in a slow steadying breath before turning back to Çiçek, a small part of her desperately willing the other mare to understand the words that come next. "I stayed here, with my newborn daughters, with Ailill. And I fell in love with him. Not on purpose, but," she struggles to find the words to explain how right it felt to be with Ailill. The wholeness she felt when his golden figure stood at her side. "He was so good to the girls, and so kind. He took care of them while I fell apart. It just sort of happened, but..."

Her voice trails off and she looks away again, sighing softly. "Bjorn came back. Finally." Her voice was bitter, and she knew that this was far too much to be dumping on someone who had no stake in the situation. The words were so heavy that each syllable made her feel as though she were clawing upward out of a well of despair that she had sunk into. It felt like hope, and she could not stop the words from coming, despite the bitterness that colored the next few sentences. "After months of being away, leaving us to wonder if he was alive, he saunters back and says we are supposed to move to Tinuvel right before winter. And has the nerve to be upset with me for Ailill when it was clear he had already gone to find others before me."

She wants to condemn Nyimara, for her dislike of the mare and the poison she breathes is strong, but she does not feel this is the place. Despite the contempt that swirls in her blood for the silver-haired mare, Siobhan will not lower herself to speaking of her. Now that Bjorn was gone, she need never think of her once co-queen again.

Her lips purse and she turns her gaze back to Çiçek, her face softened. "He couldn't forgive me for Ailill, and that, I think," she says with a finality that echoes the circular path her thoughts have taken lately. "I think that says that I've made the right choice."

Shaking her head slightly, Siobhan smiles again, seeking something to lighten the mood. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dump all of that on you. I hope your story doesn't end up quite as dramatic." Hoping to move the conversation along from such sad topics, she gestures in the vague direction of the jungle. "When do you think you will tell them about your plans?"