The numbers of the Bay herd had severely dwindled and, if she were truthful, she was to blame. Though her father had been by her side when he elected her queen of the Bay, Mariael had merely been two years old and nowhere near mature enough to take on such a weighted responsibility. When the Bay was taken from her and, a year later, her father disappeared, Mariael focused completely on what was important to her in that moment.
Family.
All she had these days were her sister, Maziel, there since the day she was born, and their younger brother, Zevulun. Their father was gone (Mariael assumed he was dead) and none of their mothers had stayed in the picture very long, though Mariael never held blame to hers. The two siblings she had became her greatest importance and deep, deep into the caverns of Tinuvel they did retreat. No one could detect them while they survived, having been born of this island and knowing it so perfectly well.
Time came to resurface. Mariael was older now, no less hotheaded, but more determined than ever to see the Bay returned to the prosperous, family-driven dream she’d once held for its shores. Zevulun was coming into an age where hormones drove him to talk, think, and look for mares who were not of relation to him, and Mariael would be the least surprised if he began to drag some home to their frozen shores. As always, Mariael kept her sharp eyes for those who would be useful to their home. Those who were more tailored toward a warm environment had absolutely no place upon Tinuvel and she would never give them a second glance.
She needed survivors.
Mariael stopped in her thoughts and physically where she walked along the border between the Bay and the Inlet, tensing immediately. Her head lifted, ears pushed forward and soft nostrils stretched as she drew in a hearty breath. There was a new scent in the air. Male. It was strong, fresh.
Given her track record with her last neighbor, Mariael was less than receptive toward the thought of having another, but she could not bend the rules which had been in place long before her. She did not hesitate, even knowing this could mean something turbulent thrust into her current life of peace, but turned to face the Inlet and lifted her head high. Proud. She always walked with pride and with confidence.
She let loose a loud, bellowing whinny, calling out for who her new neighbor might be.
Peace… or war?
|
