In the coming weeks, the Bay herd would move up into the mountains of their home, seeking the hot water springs where they could find warmth through the worst of the winter season. The herd was growing, which filled Mariael with both a profound sense of pride and a resolve to make sure nothing tragic befell them. Every horse in her home was under her protection and Mariael’s capability as a leader rested on their wellbeing. It helped, of course, to have Zevulun, but Mariael still shouldered the brunt of the responsibility as she rightfully should.
Her hooves crunched against the frigid ground and the slight buildup of snow lying in patches here and there. The first few snowfalls had only stuck for a day or two before melting, but now it was cold enough for the snow to stay. Mariael pawed idly at a snowdrift, uncovering a few wet, limp strands of grass which she clipped away and ate gingerly. The sun had barely risen, it was always the coldest around sunrise, and she felt the chill as it bit into her thickly grown coat.
It was then she heard the low murmur of voices from the forest and she lifted her head, frowning as she glanced over her shoulder and flicked her ears, making certain the herd was still near her. Who was this, then, that was out walking through the forest? Mariael looked forward again and snorted, stomping one of her front hooves before she began to walk toward it without hesitation. She doubted a possible aggressor would speak loud enough to alert the herd of their presence, but Mariael wouldn’t take chances.
She limped slightly still, favoring a sore back leg where a dark bruise showed over her pale skin. The battle had been quick, she hadn’t been able to chase the bachelor stallion from Tinuvel completely, but she’d pushed him out of the Bay and that seemed well enough. Mariael wondered if this were more bachelors – perhaps he’d returned with friends – and snorted, tail snapping behind her with increased agitation. No one would harm the Bay herd. Mariael would make certain of it.
Brushing past pines thick with needles and the snow clung to them, Mariael walked into a clearing and blocked the approach of two horses – one stallion and one mare. They couldn’t be from the Lagoon, then, or so Mariael assumed. It would be a strange day a mare accompanied a bachelor to do harm to a herd, wouldn’t it? Still, she wouldn’t let down her guard so easily.
“Welcome to the Bay.” She said, raising her chin – the bite on her neck had bruised too and though the rising sun was weak, the contrast of the bruise against her cream color was startling. “I am Mariael, Queen of the Bay.” Her ice-blue eyes lingered over them, wondering whether or not it was to be friendly faces she would see looking back at her. “What brings you to Tinuvel near the start of winter?”
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