Fjö∂ur didn’t even try to hide her disappointment at the bay’s suggestion to stay for the night. Her ears flattened against her thick blonde mane again and she frowned as she thought of all the time she had already spent away from Þoka. It sounded like the journey to this crossing place would be even longer. Dread replaced her irritation as she thought what would happen if she couldn’t find the blue roan. Every minute spent here was a minute wasted that could be spent searching. Her instinct was to insist that they push on yet today. Still, the painted pony would be useless to her friend if she drowned on the way to look for her. Sullenly, she nodded.
“That is probably the wise way to go,” she admitted with a sigh. She flicked her head, tossing her forelock out of her eyes again to meet the brown gaze of this mare. Fjö∂ur had never met anyone like her – both in appearance and mannerisms. The other equines she and Þoka had encountered in the herds on their home island had been close-minded and stuck in their ways, unwilling to believe Fjö∂ur’s tale. Their reputation as sharp-tongued and brash had preceded them, and they had been rejected. This stranger had not tolerated Fjö∂ur’s attitude, but she hadn’t let it stop her from helping the little mare. The dark mare tried to be grateful, but it was a somewhat foreign feeling to direct toward anyone but Þoka.
“You can, if you have business there. If not, a point in the direction will be fine.” After her last words, butterflies fluttered in her belly at the thought of making the swim alone. Secretly she hoped that the bay would insist on going along with her. However, she refused to appear weak and request an escort. She would just have to hope that the ocean was more forgiving in the morning than it had been on her way here.
The sleek bay turned away, and Fjö∂ur felt a brief flare of anger that her question hadn’t been answered. Only moments later, though, she did finally give her name. Bhaskara. The chocolate colored mare wrinkled her nose at the unfamiliar sounds, but kept her mouth shut for once. Her own name was a tongue twister for many. As they trudged along, she wondered again how she had become so unfortunate to not only lose her friend, but also end up in such an unforgiving land. Had Bhaskara not shown her kindness, she would surely have suffered greatly. “Lead the way, then, Bhaskara.”
FJÖÐUR
mare . icelandic horse . seven . silver black tobiano . 13 hh |