Kolfinna had spent her days here in the Bay in quiet solitude, keeping close to the fringes of the black stallion’s small herd, making polite conversation when it was expected of her, but otherwise holding herself apart. There was no room in her heart for anger - it was filled to overflowing with worry for her missing daughters, sorrow at being parted so suddenly from her son (but she had begged him to stay in the Peak, to wait, made him promise not to go to the Cove without her), and strangely, a mix of fear and joy. Though she had never set foot in the Bay before, at least not that she could remember, Tinuvel as a whole held significance for her. She had loved here, and she had lost here.

For now, though, she was certain she’d be safe, though with Fall almost upon them, she was right to have some apprehension. That the young lead mare seemed sweet and kind (and bore upon her hide Solomon’s tell-tale patches of white) set her at ease. As far as she knew, Solomon still reigned as Sovereign, and would not abide brutes upon his island, and far less so if the brutes were not beholden to him. Despite having been challenged for, though she’d been little more than a recluse, and in her own eyes, was nothing special for the silent ebony stallion to have taken notice of her, much less have wanted her enough to risk injury for, Kolfinna did not perceive that he meant to harm her in any way.

Perhaps it was the softness of her heart, or the fact that, in some ways, the stallion called Fell reminded her of both her firstborn son and his adoptive mother all at once - silent and savage.

If any trouble did brew though, Kolfinna would bolt for the border. She knew her way to the Cove well enough from here. The thought of fleeing through the pines did make her gut twist with an old and terrible memory that haunted her, but in her mind, she was resolute. No matter what, if there was danger, she would get away safely, and return for Saul, as she hadn’t returned for Menelik all those years ago.

The moment Fell approached her, the brindled grey mare straightened and stood alert. It was the first time since ushering her ahead of him to the Bay that he had approached her so purposefully, and after studying him for several moments with a steady, unwavering gaze, she couldn’t see any trace of aggression in him directed towards her, though there was a tension to the set of his shoulders she couldn’t account for. Still, when he moved off moments later, not pushing into her space to force her to follow, the silver Vulcan followed a comfortable distance behind.

When she saw the figure in the distance, standing upon the Bay’s wide beach, Kolfinna felt a bright smile upon her face, and she held fast to it, even though her heart seemed to shrink strangely, as though shying away. Fighting against the confusing emotion, she moved to greet the Prime Minister, sparing Fell a quick glance from the corner of her eye to gauge his demeanor as she did so. If he seemed on edge, she’d cut the greeting short and back up a little, return to standing a few places behind him.

The last thing she wanted was for him to feel it was two-against-one. Kolfinna had never delighted in violence, nor any sort of aggression, and given all that she’d gone through, the thought of confrontation made her feel queasy.

So, despite everything, she kept that smile painted on, and was quick to speak first, her tone bright. “Oswin! It’s good to see you. Are you well? And Róisín?” Kolfinna did not think any less of the General for not triumphing over Fell, and only hoped that the dun sabino mare had not taken the loss too hard. Olfinna’s dark eyes searched Oswin’s face, found traces of tiredness there, and the smile on her lips deepened and became more genuine for the affection she felt. Oswin had a son and a daughter she had left on the mountain slopes to journe here. The grey’s heart twinged, knowing all too well what that was like. It was the hardest thing…

“And my son - Saul, is he okay?” She didn’t dare ask after Faline or Kalanthia, knowing that having it said out loud that they hadn’t returned would only deepen the hidden wounds she carried with her. Kolfinna fell silent then, suddenly feeling a little bashful at having thus far dominated the conversation. The fact that Fell hovered nearby, and the knowledge that, as Prime Minister, Oswin had likely come to discuss important matters with him, such as how she’d like things to be between the Peak and the Bay from now on, these things were not lost on Kolfinna. In silence, she lowered her head a little, and then a thought occurred to her. Oswin would learn, sooner or later, that Fell did not speak. At least, not in the manner that she and Kolfinna did.

But how to soften the learning of this truth? If it was in Kolfinna’s power to do such a thing, she’d do it wholeheartedly and without seeking favour of any kind.

Perhaps this had contributed to Fell keeping his distance from her. There was no way to know for sure, but it was something Kolfinna had wondered. What Fell could not know was that Kolfinna would never think less of him for it, nor see him as weak, or hindered by the loss of something that was beyond his control. And as she glanced at him now, in a small, subtle, secret way, it endeared her to him, because he and her firstborn were not so different. In nothing else, they were stronger for their silence. They needed to be, in order to survive. Idly, Kolfinna wondered if she should call for Fell’s companion, given that she had never heard Fell himself sound any calls during the brief time she’d been here. And then she wondered if it would be taken poorly, if it would be akin to overstepping.

So Kolfinna kept silent, silent as the night-dark stallion, but she looked meaningfully behind, hoping that, perhaps, the kind young mare she knew as Kohelet wouldn’t be far off.