VaLkA

mare / six / chestnut pangare / yakut / 13.0 hh

Though she could not doubt the young mare’s tenacity after the time they’d spent together, Valka was pleased to see that Medusa appeared no less bold or bright for the trials she’d undoubtedly faced in her first seasons as a co-ruler of the Inlet. Whether Ironclad had truly taken the lessons the stocky chestnut had sought to teach him to heart, it was at least apparent at first glance that he had not attempted to break his mate’s spirit. Which was fortunate for him, because then the greying stallion would have not only the Yakut’s pupil, but also the skjaldmær herself to reckon with. Pricking her ears at the sound of her friend’s voice, Valka responded with a flippant toss of her mane that did no more to disguise the affection she felt for this particular creature than the brusque tone in which she spoke.

“And you think Valka needs reminders? You are not the only who would test my strength - or my patience,” the fluffy mare added, surrendering to the humor that sparkled in her dark eyes with a chuckle. “The Bay is home to a Hersir now, and his herd. And if they do not keep me from boredom, there is always Solomon - though perhaps I would be unwise to provoke Tinuvel’s new King.” Though there was no conviction in Valka’s voice, neither was there bitterness or condemnation. As difficult as it had been to suffer defeat, she’d come to terms with the results of the conflict her claim had started - and with the complicated relationship that would always exist between herself and the Cove’s ruler. Solomon was flawed and stubborn and exasperating, yet still worthy of her respect. He was both a strong ally and a worthy foe - and the father of her son.

Thinking of Solvarr reminded the Yakutian mare of the heartache she felt at his rejection, and Valka quickly sobered. It was more than her pride could bear to seek him out in the Cove, and yet the ache of his absence had only grown with time. Would the boy never return? She hadn’t truly believed - when giving her son the freedom to choose his own future - that he would decide to eliminate her from it. Pawing agitatedly at the ground, the red woman impulsively decided to take the leap from impassive into vulnerability, and to confide in her friend. “Solvarr lives with father now, in Cove. I had hoped that he would come back to visit Bay, but have not seen him since the winter’s first snow. And I - I miss him, Medusa.” The line of her lips tightened slightly, as if to discourage further emotion from escaping.

But the emotions she felt - grief, confusion, and love - were obvious enough in the imploring softness of Valka’s eyes when they met the young mare’s for a brief second before flitting away - her gaze as elusive as these moments of weakness that had once been nonexistent.

Was love truly worth it, if it held the power to wound her so?