Mariael and Maziel had fallen quiet; Mariael the ever-watchful, the unabashed protector of the two; Maziel, the quiet observer, the healer. They were the perfect balance to one another, for though Mariael would never act as if she faced problems, Maziel knew there was a strain of sorrow infecting her heart. Together they could act as one; apart? Neither sister could fathom the idea of being away from one another’s side. It was as if Mariael breathed in and Maziel breathed out, as though they were not their own separate entities.
Only the soft roar of water tumbling from cliff-face to pool filled the silence for quite some time, Mariael’s muscles tense beneath her coat as she waited for the stallion to make his move. His age or experience mattered little to her; if he was to be a problem, Mariael would find a way to fix it (and most likely that meant violence).
Instead of pinning ears or challenging the young mares in an attempt to herd them, the stallion spoke. Mariael blinked, one ear turning toward him, the other remaining back (though not pinned). Maziel, with blind milky-white eyes ghostly observing the direction he stood, had the whisper of a kind smile on her mouth. “No, we don’t live here.”
She felt Mariael tense, certainly mistrusting of strangers and not quite convinced they should speak to this one. Maziel, on the other hand, had always been very curious about those away from Tinuvel. Her mother had been a mare of the Mainlands and though they’d never found her – she’d left when Maziel was young, forcing the filly to feed from another mare of the herd – Maziel had always hoped they might. Ears pointed at him, she continued. “We live on an island close to here called Tinuvel. My name’s Maziel, this is my sister, Mariael.”
Mariael still had yet to say a word but instead stood still, never once moving her eyes from him. If anything she was more akin to a hawk or a guard dog.
“Did you just arrive to Crossing Isle?” Asked Maziel, tone curious.
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