a new world hangs outside the window
beautiful and strange
it must be I've fallen awake
I must be

Wasp waited day in and day out, for the silver bay stallion to breach her borders. Rougaru would come for Vanya, of that the Prime Minister was certain. He would not stand to be the victim of thievery - and not at the hands of a Vulcan mare, of all things. What Nekharat failed to realize when she stole from the Wolf King on that humid night on Atlantis, was that she could have very well unleashed the stallion's wrath on her home - and her herd - in exchange. Was Vanya's freedom truly worth it?

It was a question the dark bay mare asked herself nearly every day, since the petite, pregnant mare arrived in the Peak with a colt at her side. Wasp was no fool - she'd heard the stories about Rougaru's rule in Paradise. He was brutish, forceful, cruel. But something about Vanya told Wasp that the mare could handle herself. The longer the mare and colt stayed in the Peak's safe keeping, the wilder Wasp's thoughts became. She wondered what Vanya's end game was here - it was quite clear by the mare's interests and personality that she had no intention of joining the Vulcan herd. There was no requirement, of course, to do so. But was the painted mare merely using the Vulcans as a ploy? As a chance to get back at Rougaru?

Wasp questioned her own intentions then. As a younger warrior, like Nekharat, she wouldn't have hesitated to steal away any mare in need in the night. But now that she was Prime Minister, she couldn't think so selfishly. One warrior's actions affected the safety and well-being of the whole herd. Her allegiance, first and foremost, was protecting the herd here and their homeland. Conquests into enemy territory had to be calculated and strategic. There was no room for error anymore - not with lives on the line.

When Rougaru's hoarse call cut through the pine trees and echoed off their boulders, Wasp could feel her heart in her throat. She swallowed hard and clenched her jaws, before walking calmly and methodically through the woods toward the open valley. Her amber gaze caught sight of Vanya first, moving with haste, despite her swollen condition, toward the stallion who stood waiting in the clearing. The way she sauntered around the stallion - close enough, but just out of reach - made Wasp's stomach crawl. The Peak, Nekharat, meant nothing to her. They were just a means to an end. They were being used. Was Wasp willing to go to battle over this mare? Was she willing to lose one of her own for her? She cast the painted mare a sour look as she approached, stiffening in her body as she settled into a halted position several feet away from Rougaru.

The Prime Minister of the Peak dipped her head to regard to Rougaru, and stared sharply down her nose at him. "Welcome back to the Peak, Rougaru." She said evenly. Her gaze flitted back to Vanya for just a second. "What brings you to the Crossing Isle today?"

W A S P