Avangeline glowed at Valve’s praise, precisely the sort of warm reaction she hoped for. Of the three of them, it was most critical to Valve that the Akhal-Teke girl feel she could trust her—and what better way to instigate trust than by sharing a personal story? Gabbar and Evaline however, seemed less than captivated by her statement. No matter—she had done what she intended, and the attention was now focused on the palomino.

Four children seemed like a lot to Valve; it was careless to haphazardly breed so frequently, but she knew horses of mixed heritage were much less particular about whom they paired with. Perhaps some of those children were even forced upon Evaline against her will—something Valve would never let happen. Fortunately, no stallion was fool enough to attempt such an abominable act upon her, and if one ever tried she would certainly find a way to castrate him—or worse.

The black mare was not exactly the motherly type, but her lack of procreation thus far was really based on the simple fact that she had yet to meet a stallion that was worthy of carrying on her bloodline. One day she would have a foal, but that day would not arrive anytime soon.

Valve nodded her head slowly, in agreement with Evaline. She remembered that day well—how the earth shook beneath her hooves as though it desired to remove all who inhabited it, and how Cimmaron split apart and returned to the ocean from which it came. Many lives were lost and Valve remembered how fortunate she had been to escape with hers. It was one of the only times in her life that she had felt truly powerless.

“I remember that day,” Valve affirmed, keeping one ear casually pointed outward and one focused on the group. “We should all pray that such a thing doesn’t happen again.”

VALVE
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