Common

Quietly, carefully; Xiomara steps into the rolling surf that licks across the sandy bank of her home. The warrior queen only pauses once, glancing over her shoulder to see if anyone had spotted her or surprised her with keeping her company. But with the outline of the morning sun on the horizon, chasing away the midnight colored sky with its soft pastels, no one emerged from the thick atlantis vegetation. It eased any worry that might have curled its fist around her chest, knowing that they would be safe here and waiting for her return. She would return. The need to vanish as she had done before not her intent for leaving behind the peaceful home she had reclaimed.


With her focus returned to the horizon and the distant island she knew only to well, Xiomara plunged into the salty waters. The further her strong legs propelled her, the colder the embrace became. Her sleek coat did nothing to protect her from the chill in the air as she eventually pulled herself up onto the shore of the Crossing. But instead of shivering and cursing the season, Xiomara smiled. It reminded her of Tinuvel. The frigid, cursed place that always held a warm place in her heart despite her inability to return. Memories flickered through her mind as she shook away the water that dripped from her scarred flesh. Her soaked and matted mane clinging to both sides of her muscled neck. When she had finished, Xiomara set forth with no plan in mind, her hooves picking the direction at random.


When the queen ended up in the Commons, she couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her pink lips. Lips that had once seemed permanently stained in crimson. It had been countless seasons ago that she had been here, and her behavior then was much different now. The warrior woman had screamed out her authority, letting all that was here know of her arrival before charging across the open expanse of grass to lay her claim upon a stallion. The press of bodies, the violence in his eyes that reflected her own and the feel of his teeth upon her flesh as she tasted his own made her heart flutter now. Excitement lightened her icy eyes, but she had to remind herself that she was not here for that. Nor did she find such a victim that she could release her pent-up chaos upon. Instead, she spied a lonely black mare.


The girl seemed the same age as Fritjof, which caused her ears to push forward in interest. Xiomara didn’t notice anything visibly wrong with her, and she was only slightly shorter than herself. The Queen didn’t rush forward with ears pinned, teeth snapping and head snaking to drive her to the sea. Though the desire burned fiercely inside her to do just that. Instead, she strode across the open expanse that lay between them. Her eyes fascinated to the girl like prey, though never unaware of her surroundings. “You.” she said, her voice sharp like the first freeze rather than the typical siren song of a woman. “Can you handle another swim?” Politeness had never been Xiomara’s forte, but at least she was trying to be a bit more civil.