Faolain breathed a sigh of relief at the stallion’s easy forgiveness. His voice was pleasant on her ears, which remained trained on him, though not out of suspicion. She gave a grateful bow of her head, and listened as he continued, giving his name as Chike and stating his intentions.

I seek only peace, he said. Faolain had a feeling the painted stallion was being genuine, and she offered a smile. The Ridge had become a sanctuary of sorts, and the black mare felt an odd sort of pride that others could see her home that way as well. It was gratifying, in a way, to not have to offer the protection of the jungle peaks, but to instead be approached for it.

”You have come to the right place if peace is what you are looking for,” she said warmly. ”We have had our fair share of conflicts outside of our borders, but we’ve peaceable worked most of them out, and have become rather quiet. In any case, the Ridge is home to any who want or need its protection. If you wish to stay here, you are welcome to do so.”

Her tail swished languidly at her hocks, and the black mare stepped aside, inviting Chike further into the territory. ”I can show you around, if you’d like; or if you’d rather explore in your own time, that is fine as well. Just watch your step; we are overrun with children, at the moment.” She laughed, not displeased at the unusually high number of foals galavanting about the dense Ridge forests. Faolain had never been great with children, but was finding herself increasingly more comfortable with them. She especially enjoyed the company of foals still young enough to want to play with adults as well as other young ones. She had become rather good at the silly games of the little ones, throwing away her tendency to find and stick to rules and patterns, and embracing the chaos of play. ”Do you have children of your own, Chike?” she asked.

faolain

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