A soft smile touched Maziel’s lips as the colt gentle tapped his muzzle to hers, greeting her in soft, warm breaths that smelled of sweet youth. With her thin, thick-haired neck extended, Maziel lightly bumped her muzzle along his neck and withers, gathering an “image” of sorts of him as she often did with others. If she could think of how big he was in relative to their surroundings, she would have an easier time tracking him. Living in blindness wasn’t so bad as everyone assumed, not if one had only ever known blindness. How was Maziel to know what she was missing? How did every else not realize all that she was able to do?

Mariael eyed the colt with slight distrust. She sent a glance back toward the herd they’d strayed from, noticing a few had their ears pointed to the colt but, because neither filly had signified there was something wrong, no one was storming forward to investigate. She looked forward again when Maziel began to walk forward, following the colt, and gave a slight, despondent sigh. Following suit, she picked up her pace until she was step-for-step beside her sister, focusing completely on Samhain and nothing else. Where had he come from anyways? Father had told the girls there was a stallion named Pagan on the island who had a herd… was this colt of that herd?

She squinted as she studied him, even as he gave a look her way and responded to her warning. It was clear as day that she mistrusted him, because Mariael wouldn’t hide it. She let him know that she was wary of him, not so trusting, and more than prepared to defend her sister if it came to it. Some threw up walls to protect themselves, Mariael built herself a fort. She had to. She’d always had to.

Maziel’s ears flicked as the question was directed to her (she knew because he’d so lightly and politely touched her). A thoughtful expression crossed her face, stump of a tail flicking in excitement at her hind before she spoke, “The shore!” Maziel loved the shore; she loved the queer sound of the gulls crying, or how the barks of seals; she loved listening to the waves crash against the beach; she loved smelling the air thick with brine.

After a few seconds of silence, Mariael spoke. “Where are you from, Samhain? The Inlet?”