Common

it has been too long since she ventured from the comfort of their home. so long, perhaps, that she had nearly forgotten what she had set out to build. after her loss to kore, the golden mare knew that her plan must adapt, but the failure still hurt. pain, in all its many forms, was what prompted change after all. flyns would have to do more of the legwork on his own, in due time. marzanna wasn’t finished with her own aspirations, not by far, but in the long run it was beginning to become clear that her goals would be won by brains not brawn.

a catlike smile twists marzanna’s lips as she pulls her large frame from the dark sea. the atmosphere here is slightly cooler and there is a dangerous buzz in the air. the season is upon them, but she only feels freedom. anyone willing to risk solomon’s wrath might be interesting enough to warrant such attention. and her former king was likely much too busy this season to be traipsing around the crossing, what with his brood back home. now was as good a time as any to begin.

pale blue eyes survey the same landscape she had made her way through just a few short years ago but through a much different lens this time around. she is not leaving fate up to chance again. she is the master of herself. having shaken the streaming saltwater from her sides abruptly, marzanna breaks into a trot, aiming away from the shoreline further inland. a thick blonde curtain of mane bounces heavy and wet alongside her dappled neck. it is long, some of the snarled tendrils passing her shoulder even, and the thought of her appearance only widens her Cheshire grin.

finally, a break in her luck, the gilded mare thinks. her gait quickens and marzanna’s pale white muzzle lifts slightly as she extends her trot, eager to reach her quarry. the mare looks young, though still a year or two older than flyns…. she is nearly as tall as marzanna herself, and strongly built. the golden mare has no use for flimsy things.

her jaunty trot smooths into an intent walk when she is finally within a few lengths of the attractive young mare and though she knows she should tread carefully, she cannot help but eye the roan appraisingly. would she object to her new purpose? marzanna’s manner is dominant but not necessarily aggressive as she steps into the stranger’s space, offering to exchange breaths before passing the mare’s shoulder to place a gentle nip. ”this is not the season to be demanding such attention, my girl. come, let us away to the harbor.”

the golden mare has no reason to believe the filly will come quietly but neither has she any reason to believe she might not. she deems it best to only play the cards she must and no more. for all her scheming, there is something familiar about the stranger and she doesn’t wish to see her pounced upon by all manner of men that might abuse her.

she tips her fine head in the direction of atlantis, indicating she would follow for as much the stranger’s safety as her own interest in the young mare. the sooner they were both away from the crossing the less likely they were to be birthing a foal in the coming year. ”i am marzanna…if we do not dawdle here there will be plenty of time to get to know one another when we reach home. and perhaps to meet flyns as well.” though her voice leaves little room for argument her tone is not hard or altogether unfriendly. she was lonely, despite the company of her aspirations, and the harbor needed something, someone more to make it more a home rather than just ground she guarded. she hoped this stranger could help fill that void.