Falls

VaLkA

mare / four / chestnut pangare / yakut / 13.0 hh

Ja. Valka's heart did a strange sort of flop in her chest when the single word that the Fjord stallion had spoken sank through the complicated tangle of her thoughts and emotions. In her dialect the syllable spoken for an affirmative response would have been da, but the two words were similar enough that an untrained ear would not have been able to tell them apart. The parallel confirmed the suspicion that the Yakut had mulled over just moments before - that their kinds shared ancestry. Distant ancestry to be certain, for there was little physical resemblance between her and Liland other than an affinity for the cold. But to the mare who was certain she would be forced to abandon everything she'd ever known, having even a tiny piece of her world to cling to meant more than she could express.

It gave her hope - hope that she need not lose herself in order to find a new beginning.

In her excitement, the small chestnut began to pursue various strands of the web of possibilities that this thought had created. Maybe she could be something other than a zhnitsa - a living host for some stallion's parasites. But could she still be polinitsa - one of the shield-maidens who stood between a sovereign and his enemies? Perhaps, but it would take the right king - a stallion who saw that there was value to a woman beyond her womb. What Valka had witnessed so far did not give her much hope in that regard, however, so she forced her thoughts back to the present.

While deep in contemplation, the Yakut had progressed from cleaning Liland's wound to grooming his flank. Had she known the dun stallion's concerns, Valka would have been puzzled - even if there had been such a concept as romantic love among here people, there was nothing affectionate about this act. Grooming was a practical thing that occasionally fulfilled the secondary purpose of determining social standing among a herd. And any ruler who sought to dictate their subjects' interactions to such an extreme degree was not likely to command their respect for very long.

As Valka had already decided - a man might own her body, but that did not mean that he governed her every action.

Nevertheless, when she became aware of the tension building beneath Liland's pale coat, the smaller mare stopped what she was doing. Backing off to a more respectful distance, the Yakut dipped her dead to grab another mouthful of grass, her eyes never leaving the Fjord while she chewed. After her bite was swallowed, Valka made the impulsive decision to see if he could teach her some of the words they spoke in this land. Like it or not, their language would need to become hers as well - so she might as well begin the arduous process of learning it.

The kiss of cold flakes on her muzzle gave Valka inspiration for her first request. Pawing some of the snow from the last fall into a little pile, she touched her nose to it, then lifted her muzzle up to the sky in an attempt to indicate the flakes that had begun to fall as well. "Sneg," the russet polinitsa stated, first offering her own word for it. Then, with a puzzled tilt of her head and an expectant gaze, she swiveled her small ears forward to point at Liland.