“She is.” Oswin said, nodding. “She’s just returned a couple seasons ago as well.” She reflected, briefly, on that moonlit meeting between herself, Bane, and Róisín. It seemed that Anath and her daughter were estranged – or, not so much estranged as they didn’t know where one another were – but Oswin held no judgement. After all, it had been a couple years since she had last seen her first daughter, Klara (though her heart ached any time she thought of her). If she could have her here with her on the islands, she would, and she was thankful Maia’s wild spirit seemed to have settled itself down here.

Oswin’s white ears twitched as Anath asked her to accompany her up the mountainside. She nodded and tried not to show the excitement that rippled through her as the legend offered to part with her stories. She moved in-step quietly at first, trying to think of what she might want to hear. She could ask for anything, even a story that might help her against any mistakes she might make, but really…

Oswin glanced sideways at the champagne mare. Her scars on her body were like the stars in the sky – too many to count. She’d likely been a fighter from the moment she could bite and kick, which Oswin respected tremendously. If her sisters had never pushed her to be Prime Minister and involve herself more in politics and less in battle, she likely would have been the same way.

“You’ve clearly seen your fair share of a good fight,” Oswin started, complimentary, as they began to make their way up the mountainside. “Got any good fight stories you’d like to share?” She cracked a grin. Her own two-toned coat was mottled in scars, too, but nothing as impressive as Anath’s was. “I’m always a sucker for a good fight story.”

oswin
this is as brave as I know how to be.
I know it’s gonna hurt you, but please… be a little proud of me.