Rivaini

By the time the ground leveled, Rivaini was well and truly winded, but the adrenaline of the run stuck with her in the agile dance of her slowed strides and the quiver of her copper skin. The silver bay, too, loved to run - but opportunities had been few and far between with as much time as she’d spent in Iscariot’s company. As the perlino was unable to exert himself for long distances without experiencing pain, she hadn’t wanted to put undue pressure on him. But watching Faolain’s lean figure flow down the ridge, RIvaini thought that it might be worthwhile to entice her brother into a game of tag, if they weren’t too reckless about it. Iscariot had always longed to be included, but she had always forbidden him from participating for fear that he might permanently harm himself. It was only now - sharing a moment of carefree abandonment with her new friend - that Rivaini realized there were some risks that were worth taking.

“I’ll tell you what, next time you can race me back up - and after I collapse halfway there, it’ll be an easy win,” the Andalusian retorted with a chuckle, tossing her sweat-dampened forelock away from her blue eyes. Her sides still heaved with each exhale of breath; though the air was clearer and cooler here than it had been on the beach, it was still more heavy with moisture than she had become accustomed to breathing in her time spent on the Crossing. Overall, however, the Ridge was not unlike Riaini’s old homeland, and she took advantage of their moment of stillness to appreciate its familiar beauty. Here the word green hardly seemed to suffice; there were so many different shades of it that a single word could hardly encompass them all; including hues that Rivaini had not seen since leaving Antilla. And though she had hated the place of her birth, the expected aversion did not arrive. It was a comfort to realize that she could truly start anew here.

Submersed in the whirling substance of her own thoughts, Faolain’s unexpected touch caused the silver bay to flinch reflexively, her head jerking backwards. Within the span of a couple heartbeats, however, the tension drained from her as abruptly as it had arrived, and Rivaini began to return the favor. “Once I would have assured you that Iscariot was not the type to worry - he left that task to me,” she replied during a brief pause. “But now… I don’t know. He’s changed.” The downward curve of her lips was evident even as she resumed grooming, plucking a couple fragments of loam from Faolain’s mane. After a few moments she paused again. “Mostly for the better, I think. But I’m not even certain that he needs me anymore, and I find that thought frightening.”

It felt better to confess her fears to the black mare, knowing that there was a chance that Faolain might understand what no-one else could. Something about the pale stallion had always called to Rivaini - she’d had half-siblings aplenty, but Iscariot was the only brother that her heart would ever know - even if they did not share the same dam. No other creature - not even the bay mare’s own parents - had held such a treasured place in her heart. Not until now. Though it was particularly difficult for her to accept, Rivaini knew that she would sacrifice as much for the sake of the black mare as she would for her brother. That she would always seek to protect her - little though Faolain appeared to need such protection. But the russet woman turned her thoughts from that avenue, scraping her teeth across Faolain’s hide perhaps a little more roughly than the situation called for - as if subconsciously punishing the other woman for the new vulnerability that her friendship had inflicted.

The silver bay might have been young, but she was old enough in her heart to know that only the ones you loved had the power to hurt you.

mare / five / silver bay tobiano / andalusian mix / 15.3hh