Meadow

Loneliness had never been a curse that she had suffered. The forests in which she grew from child, to fledgling, and soon to adult, had been quiet and still. The horses there were few and far in between, often choosing to keep their distance and let the families cluster together as they so pleased.

As an only child, Sighurd had long ago learned to entertain herself, rarely needing to lean on the attention of her mother and her father to bring her joy.

The meadow, even despite being covered with a thick, heavy blanket of snow, saw it’s fair share of traffic, and it seemed that unless the pink-red mare retreated into the trees where she had created her hovel, she was unlikely to be alone for long. She understands the bay’s concern for her solitude- but it was not a burden to her. At the mention of hotter seasons, she smiles and paints in her mind’s eye an image of the meadow in summer.

She imagined a scene that was painted with life, from flowers springing from the earth, foals frolicking wildly, and perhaps lovers here and there intertwined in a romantic embrace. It was unlikely that this place would remain as empty in the coming months, and perhaps that meant she was more likely to discover more friends. “Ah, perhaps then summer would be the best time to explore.” She knew nothing of the deserts and the mountains that decorated these lands, and she intended to conquer all of them.

“Oh I’m never alone here- there’s lots of horses, na!” The mare chirps happily, gesturing towards the stallion with her little grey nose and giving the fields around them a cheerful flourish. “I mean, I found you, na. There are lots of others that come and go! I am never wanting for friends or conversation, na.” She doubted that she would ever find true solitude in this place, as even as they spoke there were heavy bodies rising up out of the sea all over the islands, some new to these lands and some striking out to stretch their legs. “What brings you here?”