VaLkA

mare / four / chestnut pangare / yakut / 13.0 hh

Though Valka had long ago ceased noticing the differences between her kind and the vast array of breeds - and mongrels in particular - that called the islands home, the painted stallion’s hesitation and uncertainty made her pause in turn, and look closer.

By now the Bay’s skjaldmær was accustomed to being towered over by almost every creature she encountered, particularly the males. But the demeanour of this stranger gave lie to his advantage in height; when he took a step backwards, the Yakut’s perception of him likewise shifted. Here was not a giant like those who had bent her to their will previously. Not a predator like Rougaru, or a stubborn, imperious stallion like Solomon. Nor was this stranger a great dumb brute like Cullen, who would have no reason to send a fledging boy to her home when he had proven himself capable enough of taking from Valka as he pleased. And little though the Lagoon’s boss seemed to allow wisdom to determine his actions, there was no reason for him to risk the sacrifice of those who were loyal to him.

Confirming her thoughts a heartbeat later, the stranger introduced himself as Bacardi, and claimed lineage to the Peak. The shaggy chestnut held back a snort of contempt with some effort. She’d encountered the Vulcans only briefly, in the hopes that they might help her to subdue the Lagoon’s tyrant-king before more were lost to his actions. And in their refusal, they had sealed Goose’s fate - even now, the buckskin stallion’s loyalties were being twisted, manipulated to help the individual who had seen fit to try and tear his family apart. But she could no more blame Bacardi for what had happened than she could escape the blame for her own part in this conflict. And if the bay’s loyalties were not tied to the Lagoon, then it would be wiser to make a friend out of him than to declare him an enemy. Particularly as a fellow ruler, though the Savanna that he mentioned was not a place that Valka was familiar with.

Inevitably, her thoughts turned to Bjorn, and the offer he had extended to her seasons ago. When the islands - and the mantle she’d borne - had still been new to her. Now, the pony-sized mare was wiser, and more skeptical - but these things only served to increase her determination.

Before she could bring the topic of their conversation around to the possibility of an alliance, however, the tobiano stallion seemed to denounce his leadership in the next words that he offered. Now it was Valka’s turn to turn her ears outward in confusion and unease, her dark eyes reflecting those emotions in their depths. Emotions that she strove to conceal beneath a neutral mask when his unexpected request followed close on the heels of such a bare and intimate truth. Again and again, these outlanders seemed determined to keep her off-balance and grasping desperately for understanding. Who, after all, would confess their faults and failures to a complete stranger? It was a ridiculous thing to do.

And yet…

Forcing the fetters imposed by her upbringing from her thoughts, the Yakutian mare could not help but to admit - begrudgingly and silent, for certain - that there was strength in accepting one’s imperfections. A strength that Valka herself did not possess, as she had proven by her single-minded determination to continue along a particular path regardless of its outcome. She was fortunate in that the residents of the Bay had risen beside her - to uplift her. But even if she had brought this kingdom to ruin, would the skjaldmær have been able to accept her inability and hand her home over to someone more capable?

She didn’t know.

But Valka did know what she would answer, facing this tentative creature who somehow possessed more courage than she. Especially when he spoke of home, a wistful note in his voice that was all too familiar and left her own heart aching for the hard, frozen tundra that lay somewhere far to the west, on the mainland. And for the fierce but determined mares who’d stood beside her in battle, ready to give every ounce of their strength - and even their lives - to protect those who could not protect themselves. “Yes,” she answered simply. And then, elaborating more on the meaning that lay beneath that single syllable. “I too came here because it was like home I lost. And if you would help protect, then you are welcome… Bacardi.”