Common

Was this the smart thing to do? Most assuredly not. She knew that her father would not approve of such reckless behavior, but then again, he had seemed far too busy for her lately. With so many pregnant mares in the Inlet, things had gotten crowded and while she adored her family, her otherness was becoming more and more evident.

She was not Ironclad's blood daughter, and had no mother to anchor her to the Inlet. Kvothe tried, but Lakota could see that her eyes were for Pike, and her heart still bruised by what the Fall season had brought. And as much as she adored her adopted father, even his attention had been stretched thin as of late. Increasingly left to her own devices, Lakota had begun to drift. It had been to their neighbors first, although she had been careful to steer mostly clear of the Arch. Ironclad did not seem to like Valka, but he did not appear to fear her. And Solomon's herd… well, she wanted nothing to do with it. She had never seen a herd with so many different moving parts that still seemed to hold no place for herself.

So she'd adapted. Each day that she spent growing her independence served to bolster her resolve. Even if a rouge attempted to claim her, she reasoned, she could always call on her father to come to her rescue, or their ally, the King. As the daughter of Ironclad, granddaughter of Warsaw, there was nothing on this planet that could touch her.

Plus, she added, it was just to see what the commons were like. She might not even stay.

The lean filly, freshly two years old and bright with the prospect of youth, trailed through the waving grass with mischief sparkling in her eyes. Her coat was nearly done greying out, although bits of reddish pink still lingered at her mane tips and flanks and it glittered in good health. She may never be the beauty that Pike was destined to become, but she didn't look too bad, she thought. Somebody might even show up to say hello.

Lifting her small head, she called out boldly for company and then fell quiet. In the wake of her nicker, she stood statuesque, her warm brown gaze searching the treeline rapidly for movement.