each victory is bittersweet. it both encourages and further exhausts her… like the feeling of an adrenaline rush that comes with a new wound. how much hurt and pain must she inflict before the world becomes right again? before she can push macabre’s murder from her mind… she would never be able to right that wrong. but all the others? it was her duty to try at least.

so many things pressed in on her mind…. fresh worries, old ones that were more like parts of her psyche now rather than outside troubles…. the weight of the responsibility she holds feels like being stuck in quicksand and each move that she thinks will free her only sinks her deeper. she needed to find a solution to nattergals unhappiness. while he was an arrogant spiteful little creature, it still galled her to see how miserable and angry he was. it was unhealthy. there had to be some solution, and she would think of it. as for the rest, things would work out somehow.

the morning had risen softly, as if it knew she was tired and weary. sun streamed down across the rock to warm her gently and though she should likely have started patrolling already, the massive black mare stood dozing. it was long past since she had washed up on the shore of the crossing, fresh to the isles and shiny as a piece of obsidian. even then the fire to do right had burned in her gut, bringing to mind her first meeting with kendry and how she had jumped in to defend a little mare being laughed at. it had been a long time now, since she had seen the huge white stallion. since he had delivered Kuraz into her care. she hadn’t even gotten the chance to thank him.

a bird passing low overhead whistles by, waking her. her dark brown eyes, large and thoughtful, blink rapidly and she stretches one long hind leg out and then the other. finally the drowsiness subsides and božena looks down over the mountainside and valley below. it seems like eons ago that Kunžak stood beside her, helping her keep watch on the sestry. would he hated what she had done? would he be proud? would he ever have loved her? would kendry hate her for what she had done to the lagoon’s ranks? could he have ever loved her?

it was unfair of her to compare them. to want them both to care for her… to love her… but loneliness cut her deep these days, despite kuraz’s company most days, and perhaps it was daydreaming of the two stallions both vastly different but also somewhat the same, that sometimes kept her going.

with a shake of her large head and a soft huff she blusters into motion, ignoring the feeling of welling moisture in her eyes. she has to be strong… she cannot let the troubles of her deepest most heart interfere with her duties to the sestry.

a voice from down below catches her ear as she marches down the rocky path. the kladruby mare is happy to find purpose in answering the call, trumpeting a brief whinny in reply. she lets the mornings concerns drip away as her body is warmed by the descent and her mind slips back into the role of prime minister rather than just herself. “greetings, sestra. welcome to the peak.”, božena says with a smile as she draws to a halt before the young mare. the filly looks fresh, eyes glinting with something the kladruby recognizes. determination. excitement. it was her duty to kindle that flame, to protect it, to fight for it. the mantle on her shoulder grows heavier, but as with all things, božena soldiers on.