Common

In all of her five years of life, Vanya had never felt so shackled. Not even during her first pregnancy, when news of her condition had knocked the wind from her lungs and her sails. Even then, Vanya had known that her tragedy was only a temporary condition. A brief curse that could be lifted the moment her body rid itself of the small parasite Devil's Retribution had placed there, leaving her free to saunter on to the next chump... this time, with a little more caution.

And yet somehow, casting off the chains of Rougaru's oppressive claim had not freed her as she had been hoping, only changed the bars of her cage to be even more revolting than before. Instead of fragrant blooms to rest her head upon she now had barren, ugly rocks. Instead of an entire island to explore, she had only the northern end of the Crossing. Stepping beyond that indistinct border spelled certain doom, for she was certain that the wolf was still hunting her. In truth, she had expected him to fight for her, to draw blood in her name, and yet he had not. Not even when spring faded to summer and summer then into Fall. She had remained a prisoner of her own success, locked in amongst the other mares of the Peak.

At first, it had been easy to simply bide her time. She had planned to find someone new to sink her claws into, someone that would rescue her from being a second-class citizen among many in Rougaru's herd, but her plans had not come to fruition. The only male she'd sought out was Romulus, and he'd seemed less than impressed by her lack of maternal warmth. His lack of adoration was... irritating, but not particularly troubling. After all, he had nothing to offer her beyond his attention, and that was hardly worth troubling herself over.

At no point had Vanya considered stepping into the Commons. To do so was tantamount to rolling her dice wildly across the table without the ability to pre-load their outcomes. She would not be able to dance away from Rougaru, or to sneer at those that were unworthy. She would locked into whatever male deigned to approach her first and while the notion was exciting, it was also unpleasant.

Ultimately, it is her daughter that makes the choice for her.

Scant months ago, Vanya had seriously considered leaving her on the bare earth after she'd borne her into the world. Even now, it was not the same surging maternal warmth that had consumed her upon Drogon's birth, but a grudging acceptance. Where she nearly coddled her son, protected him and adored him, she tolerated Vivienne. She kept her close not because she loved her delicate little daughter, but because she was a form of protection. A flimsy sort of protection, but protection nonetheless.

Rougaru might seek to make her life hell as payment for her crimes, but he would not kill her. Not with Vivienne standing in the way.

By the time Vanya catches her wayward daughter after a raucous chase from the Peak all the way down to the Lagoon, she is annoyed and frustrated and less on her guard than she should be. Vivienne, for her part, is suitably chastised by her mother's nip and prances behind her, bowing her slender neck prettily each time that a colt (or stallion, she's not picky) looks her way. It's precocious of her, perhaps, but she's seen her mother do the same thing more often than not and has simply accepted that such is the way of life. Her duty was to entice the men, to draw them in. What she was supposed to do next, exactly, was more of a mystery, but she hadn't much practice at that yet. Vanya was a jealous mother and kept her daughter far from the other children she might've called playmates, resulting in a child with less regard for empathy, and an even lower ability to appreciate something once she'd captured it.

Together mother and daughter danced across the Commons, their elegant figures pacing along in tandem at a sedate trot until Vanya calls for a break, having been emboldened by their run and by the lack of interruption this far. If Rougaru had not already found them, she was fairly certain he wasn't on the mainland, leaving her free to explore her options. Vivi, bored with waiting the moment her mother suggests it, noses pathetically through the flowering grass, having already deciphered that there were no colts in the vicinity to impress.

Vanya drops her dished face to the grass under the pretense of grazing, but her attention is hardly focused on the turf below. Every micron of her attention is focused on the land surrounding them, alert to the arrival of any potential suitor.