give a little, get a lot
As a filly, Nadja had been fiercely independent, often too bold for her own good. She had rarely followed orders or advice, often running off on her own adventures, sometimes dragging other foals and yearlings along for the ride. She had dodged the punishing nips from adult herd members and had often just run off again if she knew she was in trouble for something. She just never stopped running. The blue mare had expected, even hoped, that her son would have the same bad habits of scampering around when he should have been paying attention to Nadja or Mia. She had expected him to be a little hellion. Her heart was broken when she delivered the colt far too early into her pregnancy, and he emerged into the world tiny and mangled. He did not last more than a few days, and he never even got his legs under him to stand.
Nadja had been determined not to think about the life of her son since she arrived on the Crossing, and when she first saw the yearling who had arrived so quietly in the Falls, she was briefly reminded of the days before her son was born, when Nadja and her mate had envisioned what kind of crazy shenanigans he would get into once he arrived. It was not a sad memory, and though the young mare’s spook had in turn caused Nadja to flinch and let out a startled snort, she could not be upset with her for the scare.
“No need,” she said, shaking her mane out and taking a deep breath to steady her racing heart. “I should have been paying more attention. I was daydreaming,” she said with a small, somewhat tired smile, but her eyes were friendly and she didn’t think any sign of her grief was showing in her expression. It was still quiet; the sudden memory of her past had not triggered any sorrow, only brief nostalgia. The memory was already fading. The blue mare dipped down to swipe a few bites of grass, then looked again at the bay yearling in front of her. “Is this your home?” she asked. “I’m new to this island. I swam over from the mainland yesterday. I hope I’m not overstepping boundaries.” While she had been nothing short of a wild child in her youth, Nadja had outgrown a good handful of her bad habits, including rudeness and disregard of territory limits. She was still bold, but she tried to maintain a friendly and respectful demeanor around strangers until she had been given reason not to. Now, she was not sure if this may be the bay filly’s herd territory, though she doubted based on the cacophony of scents—old and new—that this was anyone’s set territory. She thought it may be a communal grounds instead. Still, one could never be certain, and it didn’t hurt to ask.
