Meadow

She didn’t mind being a little sore and battered from a friendly spar. She and Snake had laughed freely and they had, frankly, had quite a good time flexing their muscles. The pink-red mare had been the winner, but the stallion had not been bitter about it, so she figured that she had made a friend in him.

But damn, he did kick the living crap out of her shoulder.

Of course it was swollen and sore, but she regarded it as more like love thumps, like when her father used to push her over for trying too hard to challenge him. Back when she was a knobby-kneed little girl, and she was pink and fuzzy-haired and the apple of her mother’s eye. The memory is almost enough to bring a little smile to her face.

She supposes that she likes this place because it almost reminds her of home. The meadow was vast and wide open, bordered by trees that cut the wind most days, and she couldn’t see the fault in calling this place home after her dreadful swim to the cold, wet fields of the Inlet. Sighurd had absolutely no complaints, and even chuckles a little bit at the bay stallion’s mention of grass alongside the river. She would make note to remember that for when she grew hungry, as she often did in the middle of winter.

Relying on the fat she had stored up thanks to gorging herself the rest of the year was a dismal state and she wasn’t a fan of having an empty stomach.

“Here, na?” She looks around her, as if the stallion had expected her to sleep in the exact spot that she had stood. “It’s a little soggy here. I usually sleep in the trees- less wind and snow.” She answers him rather jovially, inching a little bit closer so as to speak with a quieter voice. Sighurd imagined that it would not seem entirely too friendly of her if she stood too far away, belting out her opinion across the white field. “Yup, I’m not a fan of swimming, na. Seems like you can’t get anywhere without getting wet, na. Not that welcoming of a place, in my opinion.”

She still remembers somewhat sourly how cold and wet it had been during her journey to the Inlet, and the pink-red mare was unlikely to want to do it again.