don't let the daylight rob your dreams

If ever there is a time Svenja thinks her heart might truly beat out of her chest, it is now. She doesn't dare look back as the ocean's edge races towards her, the last few yards between her and freedom shrinking rapidly. Eyes wide and ears pinned into the tangle of her mane, the sabino mare plunges herself into the frigid water without so much as a second thought. Kazimir pauses only briefly, whites flashing in fear, before following her. Every splash is an icy slap against Svenja's skin, painfully prickling at her tired muscles, but she grits her teeth against it and rallies her strength to make the final push to the Crossing. Kazimir struggles to keep up and by the time they touch hoof on the common island, liberated at last, his sides are having with exhaustion and his coat is thoroughly soaked.

It's there on the beach of the valkyries' territory that Svenja waits for Drogon, dark eyes peering out into the horizon in desperate search of him. When his bruised and bloodied figure finally appears, she rushes to him, eager to keep a familiar face close by. The trio rests awhile longer before continuing south, the white-capped Peak like a beacon above them. When they reach the Meadow, Drogon guides them back into the sea. It isn't long before Atlantis comes into view, a smear of green and white in the distance.

When they make it ashore, Svenja's first thought is of Kvasir. She's eager to see him again, but running off and getting lost will do her no favors. Drogon had assured her that she would see their son again in due time, and so she allows herself to be ushered along the shore with Kazimir close behind.

As they venture, Svenja marvels at what she sees. The sand that covers Atlantis' shores is so fine and soft and pale she feels as if she is walking on a cloud. Water bluer than any sky or sapphire beckons her in with gentle waves. The forest that flanks her opposite side is a wild tangle of vines and leaves composed of a stunning palette ranging from emerald to evergreen. Svenja wonders if she could disappear into it forever, let the jungle swallow her whole just like she'd imagined the sea doing so many times before.

When the wayward group takes refuge under the fronds of a palm tree, Svenja turns her attention to Kazimir. He has been silent the whole time and sticking closer to her than he has in months, and the sabino mare worries what this encounter may have done to her poor child. Svenja lips affectionately at his inky forelock. He pulls away with a huff, but she can tell he's too exhausted to muster up anything close to true annoyance.

"Are we gonna go back home soon?" he asks, voice small and unsure. It's a painful reminder that he's just a child, only a few months lived in this confusing world, and that many things are still beyond his grasp. He is so outgoing, so rebellious, that she sometimes forgets just how tender he truly is. Her heart clenches inside her chest and she reaches for him again, tucking him close to her side.

"Oh, honey, I'm afraid not. We'll be staying here for a little while. But you'll be able to meet your brother soon. You two will be great friends."

Drogon interjects then to inform her of Charybdis' impending arrival. What if the Ridge queen doesn't welcome them? What if they're forced to leave? Worse, what if Fell chases after them? What if... the tumult of scenarios her mind conjures up in quick succession are enough to send her head spinning. But Drogon smiles at her, then, for the first time since they met, and it's enough to make her feel a little more steady. He looks good when he smiles, she thinks, returning it with a lopsided one of her own that she's sure is shadowed by exhaustion and anxiety.

When he reaches out and presses his nose against her shoulder, Svenja allows herself a moment to lean into the simple touch. She feels starved for even the simplest of affections after so long without. Fell had been as likely to initiate physical contact with her as he had been to approach her in the first place, which was to say he rarely did. More often than not Svenja spent her days and nights alone, lingering at the fringes of the Bay herd. Always an outsider looking in, reflecting on days when Tinuvel had been home.

She wonders if this is going to be home now, and thinks to herself she wouldn't mind so much if it were.

"Thank you for coming back, Drogon," she murmurs, touching her nose to his neck and breathing out a sigh of relief. "You'll never know how much it means to me." The tension the sabino mare has carried these past months finally feels as if it is being sapped from her by the warm Atlantis air, and by the feel of Drogon's skin against her own. Svenja chances a step nearer to the dark-haired stallion, wondering just how close he'll let her get.

But she doesn't push er luck, not yet at least. Brown eyes flick out over the beach, watching as the tide laps away rhythmically against the pristine shore. "We'll be staying here then? With you?" She still doesn't quite believe this is real, and finds herself seeking Drogon's reassurance that this isn't just a terribly wonderful dream.