Pregnant and Peak-bound again, Oswin found herself stewing in what had happened when she went to visit the Badlands. Klara had always been a bit temperamental, but she’d never outright driven Oswin away like she had in Salem. In fact, Klara had always been happy to greet Oswin when she came to visit her on the Mainlands. Furthermore, Klara had always sworn she would never again find her way back to the islands the last time Oswin had told her she was returning and asked if she wanted to come along as well. What changed? What brought her to live in the Badlands herd on Salem and hold so much animosity against her mother?

With a rough snort, Oswin shoved her muddled thoughts aside. She’d been running herself in circles and was going nowhere but to further frustration. Already irritated enough as her sides swelled with yet another foal, when she had sworn Oswald would absolutely be her last, Oswin didn’t need to think of other things that angered her.

The scent of her General touched her nose and Oswin lifted her head slowly, at attention in the direction Róisín must be. She had wanted to speak to Róisín since before she had conceived another child with Tyr but, once she had, she decided against it. She was no longer sure where she and Róisín now stood, truth be told, and she’d feared having another child with Tyr was going to sour Róisín’s opinion even further.

Oswin contemplated remaining silent and letting the General go on her way, but knew that was childish. If she couldn’t be physically active across the islands during her pregnancy she could at least touch base with her fellow Peak leaders. Even if things had been previously rather… tense between them. She did not regret her decision to have another foal as much as she thought she was going to, though she absolutely was sure this had to be her last.

Oswin whistled out to alert Róisín that she’d caught her scent and wanted to see her before starting forward, pregnant belly swaying with every step she took. She found the General grazing in a valley after she’d come up over the top of one of the rolling hills and nickered toward her before starting her descent to meet Róisín on the flat, spring-grass grounds of the valley she’d been grazing in. “Róisín,” she started, her tone friendly enough - it wasn’t exactly like they hadn’t been… amiable with one another all this time - “How are you?”

A simple question, maybe. It could also be a complicated one, depending on how much the Peak General cared to share of herself with her Prime Minister.

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.