These last few months have been hard on Zjeena. She's only seven, but lines of age spread across her face like cracks in a fine porcelain. Without Liland, Zjeena wouldn't be the mare she is today. She wouldn't be Queen of Paradise, supported by the strength of this great herd, but the relationship she had with Liland tore down much more than it built up. Zjeena has lost four children to hardships created by Liland. Nattergal wanders the islands somewhere Zjeena doesn't know where. It's been nearly a year since Zjeena's seen him. Havelle should be here but she is not, often wandering to the crossing or stealing away to confide in her friend, Bacardi. Jorn and Eirik are lost to a world far beyond this one.
It never crossed the young mare's mind to join her two youngest sons wherever they had gone, but there were times when she thought the darkness might consume her and her heart might cease to beat. Zjeena's legs kept moving, but time stood still. Her blood turned to ash in her veins.
It was on the darkest of nights that the brightest beacons of hope appeared. Alastor and Sybil give Zjeena a newfound sense of purpose. Through this, she is able to lift the veil of her sadness. Her heart beats with the hearts of a living, and her blood flows alive with the love of children akin to the love of her own.
No longer does Zjeena melt into the shadows far from the herd. She stands proud with her new babies, where anyone else might find her. Zjeena chews on rich, jungle foliage, enjoying the shade of a broad-leaf canopy. Her adopted children are somewhere nearby.
A new era of peace allows Zjeena to think new thoughts, thoughts outside the swirling darkness of her mourning, or worry for what Liland might do next. Her thoughts take her to her herd mates and friends. Zjeena doesn't feel she's been very supportive of one friend in particular, and this friend is Grier. The little red mare has been a delight since she arrived here from the Bay, but Zjeena has had little chance to enjoy her company or check-in since the birth of Grier's foal. After the deaths of her own children, and before the arrival of Alastor and Sybil, being around the children of others was too much to bear. Zjeena will no longer allow sorrow to hold her back.
The tawny mare moves through the herd until she spots the familiar face of Grier. She nickers a warm greeting, approaching Grier, not as lead to a subordinate, but as equals, and as friends. "Hello Grier. How are you?"