The events of the past few days had Freya's head whirling. They'd been in the Dunes when another stallion had come along, challenging the spotted stallion for contorl of the sea of sand they called home. Unfortunately, Olaf's attitude upon return from battle had not been good. They'd soon moved from the Dunes, Freya taking a position towards the front of the herd, and she found herself worrying for her safety as well as that of Bjorn and her as of yet unborn child. She knew she she would have to birth soon, lest complications arise, but she managed to hold off her labor until they arrived safely in the Forest and settled. When she was assured that they would not run into any more problems, she had slipped off, and given birth to a beautiful filly not too long after. Upon rejoining the herd, she chatted with the other mares, moving from one to another and making quiet conversation, but always asking the same questions: how had they been? Were they in need of anything? Did they enjoy the Forest so far?

The only one she hadn't spoken to since their arrival was Olaf. She knew she should, but something was holding her back. She feels a twinge of guilt as her eyes settle on him. He's been so good to her, so far. He'd allowed Bjorn to stay by her side, but she knows that with the arrival of her second child, and him having been weaned, it won't be long before Olaf sends him off on his own. She worries for him, of course. Where will he go? He is but a child, having learned very little about the big, wide world. He could always go back to the Inlet, but would Dogun want to keep him around, either? Now that he is maturing, and given Dogun's increasingly worrying mental state, she's not sure he would want his own son around.

She forces the thoughts away... she can't think about that right now. If that were to happen, she assures herself, she would deal with it. But she can't let herself become preoccupied with things that haven't even happened yet. It's unhealthy, and takes her attention away from her daughter when she needs it the most. Blue eyes glance downwards and settle on her daughter's small figure. She is a beauty, and unlike Bjorn, who was so much like his father, Schuyler reminds Freya of, well, herself, when she was a little one. Not just physically, either. She loves watching her romp and play with the other foals, her attitude so happy and carefree. Freya finds herself wishing she were young again, so she could frolic in the same way.

Pulling Schuyler closer, Freya lets her eyes wander over the herd. With the arrival of spring comes the arrival of children. A few other mares were set to give birth soon, if their swollen bellies were anything to go by. Her eyes settle once more on Olaf's form, and she sighs. She should speak to him. He has been so gracious, she owes it to him to be amiable in return. Caling Schuyler back to her, she makes her way over to him.

"Olaf." she murmurs, Schuyler crowding into her side and staring up with wide eyes at him. She reaches out to exchange breaths with him in greeting. "How are you?" She tries to make small talk. She has slowly become more comfortable with her new life as part of his herd. Olaf and the others have been more than willing to accomodate her and Bjorn, and they didn't seem too upset - at least outwardly - with the fact that she is carrying a foal that is not his. Bjorn, for the most part, has kept to himself. Freya wishes there were other foals his age here that he could play with, and finds her heart aching whenever she looks at him. But she forces herself not to worry - there will be a time for that, later. Right now, she tells herself, she should enjoy the presence of her new daughter and the beauty of their new home.

Still, though, she can't help but feel guilty. She has settled in well... perhaps too well, she thinks. Is it wrong of her to enjoy this new place so much? Would Dogun be upset if he could see her now, smiling and laughing with the other mares like she has lived here her whole life? Would he feel like she is abandoning him? The disturbing thoughts trickle into the back of her mind and squirm their way into her conscience, despite her best efforts to shoo them away. Will she never find peace?

seven. georgian grande. bay dun roan sabino.
of the forest. bjorn, schuyler (x dogun). pippa.