As more bodies arrive, Ylva's dark, beady eyes see all, including when Solaris arrives with another young mare. Ylva's stomach flutters as she stares at Solaris, but she makes no move toward her, being uncertain that they are still friends. With the way their first meeting had gone, and the words that were exchanged between Solaris and Warsaw, part of Ylva believes that the stallion had warned Solaris to stay away from her. But when Solaris nears her now, Ylva's heart lifts with hope, and she turns her head to exchange breaths with the mare. Perhaps they are still friends after all.
It's then Warsaw speaks, his voice booming over the congregation with authority. Ylva peeks out at him from behind the other mares, her heart hammering in her chest, and listens as he drones on about political matters she has no interest in. She tries to keep her eyes on his face, but she cannot help it--her eyes are soon roaming his body, examining every inch of him and remembering how he had felt on top of her. It had not been a good feeling.
When Warsaw asks about Celestria, Ylva searches her memory. The name has no meaning to her, but she remembers seeing an older gold-and-white mare amongst the herd some time ago that had simply vanished one day. That must be who Warsaw is talking about. Yet there is a long silence that follows, which no one fills. No one knows anything, or if they do, they are unwilling to speak. The only movement amongst the group is the slim black mare with the damp coat turning to leave.
As Ylva's heart hammers harder, she considers her options. She had happened upon this herd by accident, and has no ties to them. If she had any idea where she would go--and if Warsaw would let her--she would leave tomorrow. Or would she? Solaris is the closest thing she's had to a friend since she left her homeland, and Warsaw does not seem so bad... most of the time. Ylva has been in limbo the past few months, grieving over what she has lost and unable to bring herself to engage with the herd. Yet something in her feels that if she spoke out right now... maybe, just maybe, something could change for the better. Do it, a voice inside her whispers.
"Excuse me," Ylva murmurs as she shoulders past the other mares to stand at the front of the congregation, before Warsaw and his lead mare. She glances up at them, briefly, before lowering her gaze to her hooves and clearing her throat. Her voice is quiet--likely too quiet for most of the herd to hear--and nerves have made it thick with the lilt of her homeland.
"I'm afraid I don't have much to tell, but I can tell you that I last saw the mare you speak of heading toward the beach. I saw two others heading in the same direction not long after, but they were so far away, I could hardly see who they were. All I could tell is that one was red, one black and white. I scented males on the breeze soon after, but did not connect the two. Forgive me." It had been early in the morning, and Ylva had been half-asleep, so she had thought little of it. Most members of the herd were still so foreign to her that she had assumed they were visitors, and gone back to sleep. Even if she had realized they were threats, she had been so scared of approaching anyone in the herd, she is not sure she would have said anything.
Ylva hangs her head and awaits Warsaw's reaction with bated breath.
2; norwegian fjord; red dun pangare; 14hh
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