VaLkA

mare / five / chestnut pangare / yakut / 13.0 hh

From a distance, the pony-sized chestnut and the larger auburn mare might have been mistaken for a single creature. Standing so close to one another, even the varied red shades of their coats melded together, and physical differences such as height or build ceased to matter. Even societal contrasts became less important - at least to Valka. In the Yakut’s eyes, she was neither more nor less important than Mazarine for what she had accomplished in her time on the islands. They were simply two creatures drawing on one another’s strength and warmth to survive in an inhospitable land - a feat that neither could have accomplished alone.

It was a small comfort to hear that her companion from the Cove was not wholly unhappy in the Bay - but the skjaldmær’s relief was short-lived. If anything, the edge to the taller chestnut’s voice when she next spoke seemed to contradict her previous words. It left Valka both perplexed and ashamed. In order for Mazarine to believe what she had spoken, she would need to believe that the Yakutian mare’s actions had been solely for her own benefit. But perhaps it was no surprise that the red woman might believe this. Women were little more than pretty trinkets with wombs on the islands. And even those who had proven their worth - such as Valka - must stand and watch it be questioned time and time again.

The shorter mare snorted disdainfully, and could not help the passion that lent heat to her response.

“Yes, you have choice. I know what it is to be traded like thing, to have no freedom. To speak and no one listen. And I would never-” Inhaling deeply served to cool the fire in both her words and her blood. Casting her dark eyes in the direction of the Cove - of her new ally, for better or worse - Valka continued in a softer tone. “When I fought, I fought for your freedom. So you may choose where you want to be - even if it is not in Bay. If you wish to return to Cove, then Solomon would welcome you. He has asked about you. Like Valka, Solomon cares... and wants to know you are safe and happy.” Even with their differences set aside for the good of Tinuvel, it was still a struggle to speak of the champagne stallion without bitterness. They were allies, but her worth was still less in his eyes for her gender - and it would always be a point of contention between Cove and Bay.

But Valka understood, now, that Solomon wasn’t inherently evil - even with the questionable acts he’d performed. It was the culture that had been ingrained in him since birth; values that were archaic and in need of discarding. And there was still hope that she could reach him. Perhaps - in time - he might even view the small warrioress through the same set of eyes that she now used to see him. “And if you do not know where you belong,” the skjaldmær resumed after this brief pause. “It is okay, too. I would be honored to help you find your path. Anything that is in my power I will give, Mazarine. Because everyone deserves the same chance that I have had.”

Her thoughts turned briefly to Solvarr, whose departure to the Cove had hollowed out a chamber of her heart. Time had reduced the pain to a dull ache, but it had also dimmed the hopes that she’d harbored of seeing him again. Yet even knowing what she was destined to suffer, Valka would not have changed her actions if she could revisit the past. She would still love the sun-crowned boy the same - and let him go as easily.

Because only the gods could claim ownership of a free-willed creature, and their cruelty was something that none should endeavor to match.