Falls
Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.
Posted on August 29, 2020 at 04:48:33 PM by ylva
"I am sorry your past leaders have given you that experience of herd life. I certainly hope none in my herd feel that way."
Ylva considers this in silence, her expression unmoved. Of course he would say that, she thinks, and the fire within her is desperate to snap back with, “Have you asked them?”, but Ylva reins in this urge, as well as the urge to correct herself and clarify that she has had at least one positive experience in a herd, but under a mare leader. Though Ylva’s time with Shaydowfax had been brief, in retrospect it was the safest - and most respected - she has felt in all her time on the islands. The mare had rescued her from the clutches of Warsaw, protected her from harm while asking nothing in return, and had not hesitated to relocate Ylva when she’d expressed her dissatisfaction in living on Salem. If Shaydowfax had one flaw, it was that she was the one who had introduced Ylva to Liland. Ylva wonders how the mare fares now: whether she is still on the islands or whether she had been driven away - or worse - by all the male harassment. Thus Ylva’s red-tipped ears prick with interest when Solomon elaborates on the nature of the Peak and its inhabitants. What’s perhaps even more interesting, however - and slightly concerning - is his change in energy when he speaks of them. Given her experience with stallions, Ylva senses that his opinion is only one side to the story, and her spine creeps with discomfort. Then he drops that name. Harley Quinn. Ylva is uncertain she’s heard him correctly at first. As she struggles to register the rest of what he says, her eyes widen and some of the sharp edges to her face smooth out into an expression of open bewilderment. Him? Him? As Solomon implores Ylva not to trust the Peak mares, she is only half-listening, her eyes darting here and there yet focusing on nothing. She has not seen her eldest daughter since the morning Quinn left the Bay to start her own life, and Ylva’s heart aches as she remembers how much she misses that sweet girl. When Ylva’s eyes snap back to Solomon’s face, the shock in her expression is gone, thrust back behind a mask of polite indifference, though the fire in her eyes remains. To tell him, or not? She does not trust him, and yet... “I’m sorry you went through that. That’s a terrible situation for any herd,” she begins diplomatically. “But… thank you for telling me. I’ll consider what you said.” She looks out toward the water, where her and Solomon’s sons are crashing through the shallows, their young laughter ringing like bells above the thunder of the falls. “I should go. If you see my daughter, let her know her mother would like to see her. It was nice to meet you, Solomon. I wish you and your herd well,” she says casually, as though she has not just dropped a verbal explosive into the conversation. She makes eye contact with him briefly, hoping to enjoy the surprise on his face, before turning and calling out to her son. “Runar, let’s go.” As Suleiman explains further, Runar’s face brightens with understanding. A chase game! He can get on board with that. This will be a nice change from his rabbit-herding games, where his opponents only ever want to get away him. As Suleiman counts down, Runar’s head whips around, adrenaline levels rising as he looks for a route of escape. He leaps into a sprint just a heartbeat before Suleiman says “three”, his silver legs cutting through the shallows as quickly as they can, but he’s not quick enough: he has only taken half a dozen strides before the other colt, with his longer legs, catches up. “No!” he shouts in frustration, skidding to a halt in the water and spinning around with laughter bubbling from his throat. His ears twist back and determination glints in his eyes as he bunches his weight in his hindquarters in preparation to chase Suleiman, but then his mother’s voice cuts through the air, and he freezes, lowering his head and glancing her way guiltily. “I have to go,” he mutters, glancing sideways at Suleiman. “I’m Runar, by the way. Will you come play with me again?” 5; norwegian fjord; red dun pangare; 14hh  |
Replies:
- comfort me with apples, for i am sick of love [x] - By Solomon August 29, 2020 at 07:24:00 PM
- A soldier on my own, - By Björn August 12, 2020 at 08:23:39 PM
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