Oswin watched the old champagne General quietly and with just as much, if not a bit more, awe than before. She would have given anything to meet Anath when she was younger, just as she would have given to meet Black Heart Machine. The emotion in Anath’s voice was so… thick when she spoke of her. She called her Heart.

Oswin felt a sympathetic ache tighten her throat, but did not say or do anything to bring it up. Anath deserved to shoulder the pain of her loss in her own way and she didn’t seem the sort that needed a shoulder to cry on and an affectionate hug to warm herself up by. Oswin wouldn’t demean her by offering it. She only glanced away, up at the stars, and suppressed her sigh.

Her white ear flicked as Anath mentioned the vastness of the islands. Her head dropped slightly and she glanced at the mare again before nodding. “You’re right. It does feel… quite impossible, sometimes.” Every herd ran things differently and with all the interwoven politics and personal hurt-feelings, it was a daunting task Oswin laid out before them all.

She smiled faintly and nodded. “But we give a voice to the silence.” She echoed in agreement, and her blue eyes lingered briefly on Anath before her smile deepened.

“That’s probably more than enough talk for tonight,” she said with a chuckle, “I’m the politician that will go all night debating and picking apart plans, but I don’t want to wear out your welcome too quickly.” At least she was self-aware, right? Oswin looked for a brief moment longer than Anath, then lowered her head. “At any rate, I’m glad you’ve come back to us. I could use guidance from someone like you.” She admitted it softly.

“Goodnight, Anath.”

Another brief pause and the palomino and white mare turned away, set to leave her company to finally rest for the night after their long, daunting trek up to the summit of the Peak and deep, heavy discussion.

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.