Meadow

(A good way for her to meet Solomon and find out Bjorn lost the Ridge. Also, whoops I wrote this as summer too. X3)

It has been around two months since her return to Tinuvel. Life flowed back into easy street back at home which was good since she was raising young Haskuldr and Lakota. Seems she was there at the right time to adopt an orphaned filly that needed her milk. It is time to take back my life, she thinks as she leaves her children behind on the Inlet's beach. She needed some time by her lonesome to try and get in touch with her former self. Since becoming a member of the Ridge she quickly was dragged into such a serious world that was never meant for her. Ysabel was never meant to fight or feel hate for someone else. She grew up with love for everyone even past their wrongdoings.

It felt nice to simply walk the land without a worry or a care. Each step was taken softly against the earth as she enjoyed the quiet of the meadow. Her foals brought her joy, purpose, but it was nice to be away from them sometimes. It felt awful to admit, but it was true. As much as she would like to, she couldn't stay away from her children forever so she starts back towards the sea. Her way is soon blocked by the small Icelandic mare and the tall champagne stallion that towers over her. She recognizes the mare from her last her. They had never met, but Bjorn had brought Þoka home just before she departed from the herd.

Actually, the blue roan was in the group when she had announced to Siobhan that she was leaving the herd so she might remember seeing her back at the Ridge. Ysabel nickers as she approaches them, coming around the tall stallion that stands in front of her. "Nice to meet you Solomon," she says as she catches him introducing himself to Þoka. Blue eyes watch the mare with a small smile. "You might not remember me, but I used to live in the Ridge." She wonders how the herd was doing in this last month being ruled by the authority driven Nyimara. "How is the herd doing?" She asks this with concern with eyes that never leave the mare's face.