the opportunity to replace cullen had been fleeting, with few volunteering to rise up against him. she wondered why. while he was certainly a determined leader, Božena could find nothing redeeming about the stallion. he was fickle, foolish, dishonorable, and above all, she found her hatred of him grow even more at his lack of attempts to regain his brotherhood from their captivity, least of all his own son. despite her best attempts to remain hardened against that son, to dislike the creature based solely on his parentage, the towering black mare found the ivory colt wandering through her thoughts regularly like a ghost.

there was a constant hungry guilt that gnawed on her, though she knew with ever fiber of her being, she had not intended to wound him such as she did. verrat had suffered though, and gravely, despite her carefulness. it was clear, to her at least, that she could never offer an apology fitting the situation. even her offer for him to stay in the lagoon had been refused.

the dark mare, out on her usual patrol, catches sight of figures both familiar and strange to her. she is glad to make her way to wasp’s side, unconcerned for the warriorsess’s safety in the presence of Verrat and a stranger whose posture suggests no ill will. she is monumental beside them all, striding up with powerful steps and halting beside her sestra without hesitation. a pang of hurt cuts through her chest as she bobs her head in greeting to the two stallions before her, noting the way verrat seems to shrink before them in fear. her head, distinctive by its profile and size, lowers to the level of the rest of the company, ears turning this way and that to catch the conversations direction.

her head tilts in concern as she feels compassion and sorrow well inside her heart at the spotted strangers plight. while she has trouble interpreting parts of his strange dialect, it is clear he fears for the safety of someone he cares about. wasp seems a levelheaded jury, listening with dispassionate consideration, whereas Božena stamps a massive hoof, almost ready to march to the lagoon immediately to demand the strangers freedom. after her friesian sestra speaks, stopping to eye the white stallion with obvious deliberation, Božena interjects placidly. ”Verrat’s freedom has always been his own.” she pauses to look at him directly, and as gently as possible, ”i wish we could have spoken before this, statečný… she does not pause to single him out any further, though she wishes she could utter one more apology. instead, she directs her attention starchly back to Wasp.” I loathe to send anyone else back to that lagoon who would sew chaos under Cullen’s direction, but we must help in some way, if we can.”

Her posture is friendly and soft, despite her massive height, and much more relaxed than one would think such a high ranking member of the Peak might appear… But she had realized, some time ago, that despite her prowess in battle, she preferred diplomacy.