Falls

the wolves still circle, mostly in the evenings, eying for stragglers and weak links in their herd, but marzanna cannot abide to stand within the circle for a moment longer. She had swallowed her pride, forcibly, having been defeated by Ysabel, but it would not be tamped all the way down. rage burned within her in a wild unleashed way that would scorch everything if she wasn’t careful… the deal that she had made with solomon, some time ago in the Falls no longer stands. her affection for the stallion is a strong pull to this isle, but the tether of power had broken and affection alone would not keep her. just as he had made her sovereignty conditional, so was her presence there.

the golden mare waits until the brightest part of the day, when the cold winter sun is high in the middle of the sky, before leaving the safety of their group. She does not rush, marching through the snow with a powerful stride, but she is watchful for predators behind her. marzanna does not look back as she wades into the frigid sea and cuts through the swirling water toward the mainland. she would not cower until the end of her pregnancy to reclaim her rightful place.

she is particularly furious with herself for allowing solomon to cover her during her heat… for a short time of pleasure she would now only grow weaker and slower until the child was birthed. even then she would be hindered by it. him, she thought with some strange feeling of fondness that seemed to warp her foul mood slightly. the child was sure to be full of vigor and intelligence, given it’s breeding.

she feels invigorated by the surf, luckily, as it provides a welcome challenge to her agitation. when she pulls herself up the shoreline, large round hooves sinking into the sand, she feels the relief of exertion weighing on her. finally her mind is able to digest thoughts other than Solomon’s betrayal, or at least her estimation of it, and her own failure.

marzanna has no doubt that she would best the mare, if given another chance, but it is too late now. they grow heavier with foal and apparently that alone is enough for her former king to provide protection for his queen… his affection, his word that she would stand beside him in power, clearly hadn’t been enough.

she stands down stream of the falls, drinking from the crisp clear water until her thirst is slaked. luckily the crossing was more temperate than the northern isle and still held enough nourishment to feed one more mouth for the winter. perhaps she was doing solomon a favor by vacating…. after all, the cove had become quite crowded. she still thinks there is potential on the snowy frigid isle of tinuvel, but now while her temper burns so hot, it was safer and smarter to be away.