I guess that's just the price I paid
for the blood red flags
that I walked past everyday

♡
Despite my extreme aversion to the great gray abyss that stood between me and the Bay, I worked up the courage to swim. It was not a pleasant trip, and the waves were frigid and choppy, but it felt as though as long as I clung to the painted stallion’s image I would be okay. I don’t know if it was true, or if I just got lucky, but I made it unscathed to the other side.

On the pebbled shores of the Bay, I shivered and gasped for air, but I was a little bit proud of myself for making the journey. I still wasn’t entirely sure why I had agreed to go; Bacardi was a stranger to me, and the Savanna was plenty for me; I wanted for nothing in the golden sea of grass, with its lovely little pond and rolling winds. It was beautiful, but it was… less so, without Bacardi there. That didn’t seem like enough to pull me away from it, but apparently it was, and in the end I was glad to have faced my fear and even come out the other side a little bit stronger. I still detested the waves, but now I could at least look at them without feeling the skin crawl up my spine in revulsion.

It was cold here, much colder than the Savanna. My breath came in billows of steam that shone in the languid sunlight. The day was bright, but the light offered little warmth. Tinuvel was a winter island, after all; it wasted apparently no time on autumn weather, opting instead to leap straight to the frost. It would take some getting used to, but I didn’t mind too much. It was still wonderfully pretty, in a wholly different way than the Savanna was pretty, but I could appreciate it all the same. I followed Bacardi’s faint scent into the shelter of the trees, where I gave a soft whinny into the shadows. I began to groom the salt from my fur as I waited for Bacardi, or anyone else, to respond.
♡

Soraya