Meadow

The wind pulled her pale mane and tore the laughter as soon as it fell from her open lips. She threw her weight forward into her run, ears turned back to hear the approaching pound of hooves closing the gap. When she turned her neck so she could glance behind her she saw the thick-boned roan stallion had decided their playful chase through the low hills of the footlands was through and he was ready to catch her, to rub his whiskered lips over the youthful dips and curves of her brown and gold dappled coat. Running wasn’t as fun for him as it was for her, but she loved it for how much quicker she was.

Gingerly she slowed her gait just a pace, enough to let him believe he was gaining on her and closing the gap between them. Just when her pale tail flicked a mere foot or two from his chin, she pulled deep and drew her legs up, throwing more of her energy into her run. The gap grew between them and his cry of disappointed dismay faded on the wind behind her, making her laugh once more.

The chase pulled to a halt when on the crest of a large hill she noticed a figure – gold and white and familiar – and her hooves stumbled to catch the stop as she hit the incline. It made her body bounce and she fell into an ungraceful trot as she caught her balance, kept herself from toppling over and walked the rest of the way up the hill. At first her roan stallion thought he’d caught her, and he laughed triumphantly before lipping at her hip. She threw out a playful kick and snorted at him, then turned her attention back toward the older mare she was approaching.

He frowned and held himself back a few paces, though finished the walk to approach her.

“Mama!” She greeted with an exhausted breath, sides heaving from her run and happiness on her face in a smile. She brushed noses with her dam, then along her neck, nibbling fondly at her wither and getting their physical greeting in before she danced away and gave her mother space to talk.

“Maia,” her mother said happily, clearly expecting nothing less than coming up on her daughter running through the open grounds with a stallion close at her heels. She glanced at him briefly and then back at her daughter. Behind her, down the other slope of the hill and grazing in the valley, was a herd of familiar horses all varying shades of soft cream. Maia whinnied eagerly to them and noted the absence of three – her older sister, Klara, and her older cousins, Ramiel and Raziel – and smiled when answering calls came from those who were there. She’d be sure to head down and say her hellos after her mother said whatever news brought her here.

When Maia’s eyes were her mother’s again, she began to talk.

“I’m taking the family back to the islands,” she explained. “I plan for us to be there permanently, no longer traveling the Mainlands as we’ve been doing. I’ll be in the Peak.”

“And Klara?” Maia asked curiously.

“Klara will be staying with her herd; she’s due to drop their first child next season and has no interest in returning to the islands.”

Maia nodded. Her mother had barely been pregnant with her – not even showing the curved swell of her belly – when family tragedy pulled her from the islands. Thus, Maia had grown up with stories from her and her family that’d left there and wanted to share memories of where they’d been raised. She had never had a burning need to go there too, but her adventuring spirit always drew her with a curious eye. Even know as mother and daughter stood sharing this information, they knew it didn’t necessarily mean Maia would ever be there too. Oswin only needed her wanderlust daughter to know where to find her should the need arise.

All in all, she stayed another week with her thick-boned roan stallion and only laughed gently whenever he tried to longingly convince her to stay. You know I won’t. She’d said with love in her young voice and brushed her lips across his neck, playing with his dark hair as he leaned helplessly toward her touch. They always learned in the end that Maia stayed in no one place for very long. It wasn’t that her dam’s return to the islands pulled her away… she was going to leave one way or another.

Saltwater pushed from her nostrils and dappled the sand in tiny spots, joining the much larger splotches that rolled from her coat, made darker by how damp it was. She flicked her heavy, wet tail behind her and snorted again. Her warm eyes were bright on the beachfront as she scanned the many signs that other horses had tread past not too long before her arrival. She turned further inland and marched, no clear direction or care in mind, not seeking out the Peak or her dam, or worrying and trying to remember the stories to place where she was. That wasn't how Maia lived.

Eventually, after pausing for a roll and a long, well-enjoyed drink from a babbling freshwater creek, Maia found herself at the edge of a large clearing flanked by the trees native to the island. A meadow, grazed down but still somehow managing enough offering were her stomach rumbling. It wasn't and instead she walked forward, further into the open area, hoping a lone horse like herself might attract a stranger she could get to know. Her heart beat a little faster and a smile turned just the edges of her lips.

maia
take off your silver spurs and help me pass the time
and I will give to you summer wine