VaLkA

mare / four / chestnut pangare / yakut / 13.0 hh

A chill hung heavy in the breathless air of the Bay, as if the land waited with bated breath for winter to descend upon it. Even the sea seemed quieter today. It lapped gently at the heels of the pony-sized mare as she followed the concave curves of the shore, stocky limbs moving in a steady, thoughtless rhythm. It was easier that way - to keep her mind empty, and focus on the familiar features of her new home as each swept by. Valka had finally begun to settle into her new home - or at least, as well as could be expected given the recent incursions. It was on these that the chestnut Yakut blamed the abundance of restless energy that filled her, and left her with this need for constant motion. That the males who had crossed the boundaries of her home uninvited were testing her, Valka did not doubt. And if she did not chase them off as soon as they arrived, they would only grow bolder.

But even in vigilance, Valka was only one mare. Alone, she could not stem the tide of testosterone that had seen fit to wash over the Bay. Circling her, like carrion birds ready to descend on a faltering animal once its struggles had ended. Svolach. She had fought for this land - bled for it - and they thought to steal from her what she had rightfully earned.

The tempo of Valka’s hooves had steadily increased in her anger. She swept around a final curve of beach, then turned inland as abruptly as if met with an invisible wall. There, the boundary shifted from Bay to Inlet, and the small mare did not care to test the diligence of her northern neighbor. Travelling along the flat plain of golden-brown grass, Valka’s strides lengthened even more - running not only for the escape it provided from the tangled chaos of her thoughts, but also for the pleasure it brought her. The burning inhales of her breath, leaden ache in her limbs, and sheen of sweat that dampened her wind-ruffled coat served to remind the auburn skjaldmær how it was to truly feel alvie.

And then, abruptly, her flight ended.

At first, the Yakutian mare simply stood and looked - not certain whether she could trust what her dark gaze was seeing. But when she witnessed the pale stallion pause to sniff at a scraggly birch under which she’d slept, Valka knew that he had come. Ironclad. Her small body stiffened immediately from its weary sag into an aggressive stance, and a belligerent cry shattered the silence. Lunging forward, the chestnut female pinned her ears and bared her teeth at the boy who had so callously betrayed her. Once she reached him, Valka did not pause to offer a final warning as she’d done in final intrusions, but met him head-on, reaching for the flesh of his shoulder with her blunt teeth. In that moment, she did not consider Ironclad’s greater size or strength, or the likelihood of suffering an injury.

The only thing that mattered was hurting him as much as she had been hurt when he’d left her standing on the shores of Rougaru’s home.