Iris listened to her painted companion speak, her own voice silent and her expression sober. But deep within, she felt her resolve begin to falter. Only seasons ago, the blanketed mare had been as strong and hard as stone. Unreachable in the high-walled fortress that she’d built around herself, save by the one creature whose stubborn determination matched her own. Of course, this aloofness wasn’t the way that she’d been born so much as the bitter fruit borne from the dark seeds of anger and agony. From the gnarled fingers of grief twisting the soft clay of her heart into something unrecognizable— at least on its surface. Beneath, however, it was unchanged. Beneath, the mahogany woman’s heart still beat and bled and broke like any other.

And what the stranger shared of her mother’s sadness sent an ache pulsing through her tight chest.

Her warm chocolate eyes squeezed briefly closed in despair. She didn’t want Lilika to be unhappy, but it was hard to believe that trading one source of grief for another might be kindness. That it could be anything but selflish to share the pain and trials that she faced with the mare who’d already suffered too much. Torn— no closer to clarity now than she’d been at the beginning of this tangled mess— Iris listened to the young stallion reveal both his name and his experiences. To his confession that he’d never known the pain that a loved one could inflict; the pain that had all but shattered her when she’d last seen Eve. And though she could’ve easily let this truth invalidate everything that Ryder said after, instead she recognized a slender thread of possibility, of hope, and clung to it.

He didn’t know what heartbreak felt like… but perhaps that was because he’d made the right decisions to avoid it. To keep himself and those he cared for whole. Considering this possibility— and what the tobiano had spoken of love’s strength— the appaloosa’s chin lifted the barest amount and the downward curve of her lip softened. Regardless of his youth, Ryder spoke with a wisdom that had always evaded her; with a familiarity in the matters of heart that had always confounded her. And… he was right. It wasn’t fair of her to make this decision for Lilika, and even less for her sister. Perhaps Eve would welcome the comforting presence of their mother, particularly after the brittle state both had been left in after parting on the Cove’s shore. “I—” she began, but it wasn’t easy to say the words that hung on her lips. To admit that she was wrong. To share of herself— her vulnerabilities and her doubts.

“Eve— she’s living in the Cove now,” Iris finally spoke, brown eyes drifting northward. “But you might not be welcome there, Ryder. No more than I am likely to be. It might be wiser to simply tell my mother, and let Lilika go to her.” She shifted uncomfortably in the silence that followed this peace offering, feeling the weight of it. More; she had to offer more. “You’re right, Ryder. It wouldn’t be fair of me to make this decision for them. I will be staying here in the Peak. Tell my mother— tell her what you will. Whatever you believe is best. I only want her to be happy.” The last word caught in her throat, coming out as a hushed and husky whisper. Tears burned in its wake and this time she knew that they could not be repressed. Turning hastily as the first warm drops touched her eyelashes, Iris murmured a last farewell.

“Goodbye, Ryder. I hope that someday, we might meet under kinder circumstances.”