She cuts a lonely figure as she slowly picks her way up the widest of the mountain trails she’d come across, fleeting as a shadow. Occasionally, when she pauses to rest, her focus shifts to the Peak towering above her. She is so careful with her footing, every movement purposeful and predetermined. She had been meant for this mountain. That’s what she’d been told since the day she’d been born.

From the beginning, before Tigerlily had even known that she carried Hrafna, the buckskin splashed mare had dreamed of this place.

And then she had left, when Hrafna was just old enough not to need her. (Hrafna would always need her, but the smoky black girl had the sense to discern that it was necessary, for Tigerlily to go.) Hrafna was left alone, and Tigerlily made her promise to never leave the Peak. For her own safety, she had to be a secret, and her mother couldn't promise that they'd meet again any time soon. She could promise that she'd do all she could to keep Hrafna safe.

Even if that meant giving her up.

Unfortunately, it was taking the yearling time to adjust to facing the world alone, and she's only mustered enough courage to venture halfway up the mountain peak. Beyond that, it seems to be even steeper and treacherous, and Hrafna doesn't think she can ascend any higher. At least, not 'til she grows a little, or meets one of the mountain women who can show her the way. As darkness fell, and it fell quickly, especially on the shadowed side, she had returned to the little sanctuary she'd found for herself - a rugged nook in the rock face, with a relatively level patch of stony ground upon which she could rest well away from the edge, and tuck herself out of the worst of the wind until the sun rose and warmed her velvety hide again. But a soud in the night wakes her, and her dark eyes open wide.

(It is not her mother coming back for her, as she'd dreamed.)

Hrafna shakes off the ache of disappointment, and settles her gaze on the stranger before her, glowing softly in the moonlight. “Oh!” she exclaims, the sound soft and sleep-slurred as her inky lips part in surprise. She has the sense and instinct to keep herself still, curled against the cooling stone of the mountain, because it was a long way to fall if she stepped wrong, and she doesn't want to startle the mare either. Her brown-black eyes regard the figure before her with interest, squinting in the dark, and she finds many questions gathering themselves upon her tongue. Long had Tigerlily kept her at the base of the mountain, secluded and hidden. From the valley, Hrafna had seen shapes moving on the lower slopes of the mountain when the days were clear.

Is this one of them? One who calls the lone mountain Home, in a way that Hrafna does already in her heart, while her mother Tigerlily never will?

It occurs to her that maybe the mare can't see her, and she's about to say something else when she makes out a shadow at the mare's side. Hrafna thinks she must still be dreaming, because she sees herself there, but then the little shadow moves, and a slash of white blinks in the moonlight, breaking the reverie that held the lone filly still. She'd seen her reflection once, and knew that she possessed only a smudge of white on her forehead. It was another girl. One who's mother hadn't left her.

“Umm, hello,” she murmurs softly, shaking her head so that her feathered star of white might be revealed and no longer hidden by the tangled stands of her forelock. “I'm called Hrafna.” And without hesitation, she snorts gently and gestures for them to step closer to her and farther from the danger. “The path ahead is very narrow. I couldn't go any higher that way.” Maybe the mare would have better luck. She reminds Hrafna of the stars. But even the moon can't reach all the parts of the jagged path, and it would be better to wait for the sun. “You can stay here with me, if you want,” the smoky black filly offers, unable to keep the pitch of eagerness (the edge of desperation) out of her voice. “And in the morning, maybe you can find your way, or one of the mountain mares will find us.” Because Hrafna is small, and maybe she's too good at hiding, for none so far have crossed her path.

She waits with bated breath to hear what the star-mare says, and her eyes hardly leave the shadow-girl. Hrafna doesn't say it, but more than almost anything, she wants them to stay. Even if it's for the rest of this night.

So just for a little while, she doesn't have to face the mountain alone.