VaLkA

mare / six / chestnut pangare / yakut / 13.0 hh

Valka wasn’t certain what she’d expected in baring her heart to her friend. Empathy, perhaps, or advice - or even some of the light-hearted ribbing that Medusa doled out with silver-tongued ease. Any one of the three would have even cheered the Yakut, even if such happiness was doomed to be both superficial and short-lived. Because the small fissure in her heart could only be healed by one creature on this earth, and it was the same who’d broken her in his absence: her sun-crowned prince, Solvarr. For once, however, words seemed to evade her young companion. Inhaling a ragged breath, Valka prepared to turn the conversation to lighter topics -

- and was surprised to find herself pulled into an embrace.

Having little experience with physical contact beyond mutual grooming and the exchanging of blows, the fluffy chestnut stiffened, and her small ears turned backwards in an expression of the uncertainty that she felt. Yet as the seconds ticked past and the steady rhythm of Medusa’s heartbeat served to lull her, Valka felt herself relaxing into her friend’s touch. And in the moment before she finally pulled away - more to save face than out of a true desire for distance - she even leaned subtly into the other mare, her sides heaving in a gentle sigh. Though the Bay’s protector would never confess to it, it had felt good to share such an intimate moment with her dearest friend - and also provided her with an answer to the questions that had circled endlessly in her mind. This was undoubtedly what Solvarr had craved, and what the taciturn mare had failed to provide. But was it too late to repair the damage that concealing the depths of her emotions had caused?

It would have been natural to lapse back into the depths of her grief. But Medusa proved herself to be as relentless a friend as her sire was a foe, leaving Valka little ground to wallow in sadness or self-pity. Whether unintentional or orchestrated, the tobiano’s offers of aid made the Yakut roll her eyes and offer a dry, humorous response of her own. “Why send other to fight Solomon, when you could beat and become Queen of whole island?” Snorting sardonically, the red woman suddenly narrowed her dark eyes at Medusa - realizing too late the risk of her mock suggestion being taken literally. “No, if a fight could solve then this would not be problem. And Solomon is not fool - he will see through attempts to spy. But if you see him, or Solvarr -” Valka paused, swallowing against the lump of emotion that the name evoked in her.

“If you see them, then could you tell? Tell them that Valka misses her son - and that she loves him.” The word evoked a sour twist of the chestnut’s lips - as if it tasted bitter on her tongue - but there was no denying the softness in her voice when she spoke it. Or the warmth that filled her, and softened the dark pools of her eyes. Shaking out her shaggy mane as if to dislodge the irksome pest of her deeper emotions, however, Valka butted her head into her companion’s shoulder and continued in a much lighter tone. “Of course, it not say much. I even care for pain in butt Medusa, who also lives too far away. Perhaps I should challenge for Ironclad’s queen, and have you all to self again. We can fight Solomon together, and share his crown, yes?”

The shorter mare chuckled, but her brown eyes were contemplative, and the gentle curve of her lips wistful.