It was clear Solomon was desperate, and to see him deflate at the news that Çiçek was not in the Ridge was painful for Faolain to watch. Despite their awkward beginnings and their shared love for the golden mare, there was no bad blood between Faolain and the Cove king. It pained her to see the state Solomon was in, and not only because of her concern for Çiçek. Her brows furrowed, but she was somewhat comforted to know that he was headed to Paradise next. She was also glad to hear that he was allied with Rougaru. ”I wish you luck,” she said, but the sentiment felt empty, useless despite her genuine hope for his success. What good was luck in a situation such as this? It was only a word. A friendly, yet ultimately unhelpful word.

When the tobiano stallion began to ramble, she let him, nodding as she listened. She smiled slightly at the thought of their child, who would undoubtedly charm all the herds on the Islands in due time with his impressively charismatic lineage. Faolain found herself ever more eager to venture to the winter island to meet the colt and to visit his parents - if both of them were present. The iron grip of anxiety tightened again, lest Faolain forget it was there. It continued to drag her mind to the darker of possibilities, despite her insistence on keeping the pleasant image of Çiçek and Solomon with their son in the front of her mind’s eye. When Solomon brought up the possibility of alliance, Faolain was relieved for the distraction, however slight. She felt useless in the search for Çiçek, but an alliance was at least something she could act on.

”Actually, I don’t think you’re late at all. Rougaru and I had some... differences to work out, but we’ve recently come to somewhat of an understanding, and have worked out an alliance of our own,” she said. ”It would stand to reason that the three of us would be even stronger together.” She offered a genuine smile, not sure if Solomon felt similarly about any accomplishment in the face of helplessness. She hoped this more concrete form of support might serve to steady him a bit, and with Rivaini offering a friendly touch, Faolain felt a little less useless. Still, the fear continued to grip her heart, even as she sought control in other ways.

”When you find her,” she said, ”please send her our love, and renewed promises to visit.” She reached up to bump her small muzzle against his in a reassuring gesture. ”And, congratulations,” she added. She had not missed the mention of Tinuvel’s new king, though the black mare had not quite registered the news until now. ”It was bound to happen - you are well fit to lead.”

faolain

mare // 6 // EE aa // 14hh