No matter how often Solaris's warnings echo in Ylva's mind, she cannot bring herself to regret bringing her adopted foals to the inlet. Seeing them run and buck and play without a care in the world is a beautiful thing to behold, especially when--just weeks before--they had been nothing more than scrawny, helpless little things, doomed to starve to death while their mother rotted beside them. Ylva still finds herself keeping a close watch on Warsaw's whereabouts, and pins her ears whenever he comes too close, but so far, things have gone smoothly. Even if Warsaw proves to be a nuisance to her adopted children, she would rather have to deal with that than having to witness them perish back on the crossing.
Perhaps it is the pregnancy hormones rushing through her veins, but Ylva can scarcely believe she had been ready to desert this herd a few weeks ago. As much as she distrusts Warsaw, and cares little for the climate or most of the inlet's occupants, Ylva is thankful. She is thankful she is alive, she is thankful she has a safe home in which to raise her children, and she is thankful she has a friend in Solaris, who will very soon be raising a child along with her. What more could she need? The memories of her homeland are swiftly becoming a thing of the past, and motherhood has filled Ylva with more purpose than she's ever had before. This is the closest she's been to contentment in a long time.
As little interest as she has in her fellow herd members, there is one mare who has sparked curiosity in Ylva. She had first seen her at the herd meeting, where the mare had briefly lingered on the outskirts, just as Ylva had, her dissatisfaction radiating off her in hot waves. To this day Ylva has wondered about the mare's story, and she had become even more interested when she noticed the subtle signs that the mare was pregnant just as she was, despite having kept well away from Warsaw and the rest of the herd. Though Ylva is content now that she has foals to keep her busy, she had felt an instant kinship with the mare on that first day, having seen how unhappy she was. Perhaps their shared experience is something they can bond over.
Ylva interest is compounded by intimidation, however. The mare's negative body language at that meeting is burned into her mind, and Ylva does not know how amenable to company she will be. Plus, Ylva has two foals to protect. With this in mind, she waits for a day when the mare is relatively close by, which proves hard to come by. Then, she waits until the twins have fallen asleep. It is cold and overcast, with the promise of snow in the air, when Ylva finally approaches the little black mare. Her thick neck is long and relaxed, her ears are pricked, and her eyes are bright with cautious interest. She stops a short distance away, and lowers her head to momentarily feign interest in grazing. When she speaks, her gently-accented voice is as soft and springy as the tundra moss beneath her feet.
"Hello," she says, and waits meekly to see if the mare will accept her company.
3; norwegian fjord; red dun pangare; 14hh
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