A new equilibrium had settled over the residents of the Ridge, but it was an uneasy one. Every creature that Siobhan had encountered was busy dealing with their own turmoil, and as a result, had pulled even farther apart. It had felt terrifying and yet amazing to rush into the surf following Ysabel, with Elvira at her side and the other members of the herd following along behind. The red mare had never craved violence, and it was not really even vengeance that she sought as she plunged into the waves. It was the sense of community, of belonging somewhere and needing to right a very severe wrong.

Of course that day had ended in it's own tragedy. They'd succeeded in their task, but it was not without great loss. Siobhan was not close to the haughty Queen of the Ridge, as the chocolate mare had only recently returned to the herd and had only sought out the other residents to crow of her victory over the previous beloved queen. No, it was not for the silver haired queen's sake that Siobhan mourned her capture. It was for Bjorn and Sigurdr. Both were marked by it and her heart ached for their loss.

Even Ysabel seemed withdrawn as of late, but Siobhan did not press the issue. She tried to project herself as a friend without offering pity, but she did not want to overstep her bounds. Even though the golden mare no longer held the title of Queen, she carried herself like one and it was to her that Siobhan looked for leadership when it was warranted.

The red mare waited in her customary position at the edge of the Ridge, the jungle looming to her right and the vast expanse of the ocean to her left. The dense vegetation no longer intimidated her as it had only months prior, but as the swell of her stomach grew more pronounced, it was less and less comfortable to navigate the vines and the rocks and the leaves. And she'd grown fond of this spot. Like a lookout, the spotted mare lifted her head to the sky and sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. Spring was soon approaching, and with it would come her second child. The thought filled her with equal parts terror and elation; she couldn't wait to meet her child but the irrational fear that fate would swoop in to take them away lingered over her mind like a dark cloud.

What she wanted, more than anything, was the comfort of a herd. She wouldn't shy away from the King's affection, but she knew he mourned the loss of his Queen and would not demand his company. Siobhan wanted to know more of her family, so that she might rest easier during the foaling. More eyes couldn't stop mother nature, but they might be able to stave off her approach.

The mare raised her dished head toward the sky and beckoned for anyone in the herd that sought company as she did, and then ducked her head to lip at the vegatation at her hooves while she waited.