Rivaini

It was difficult for Rivaini to say which burden weighed upon her heaviest—perhaps because they consumed so much of her energy that she had none left to consider such a question. She worried for the safety of the Ridge and its residents, particularly after Siobhan spoke of her captors’ vow. She wondered why her brother Iscariot had been so distant since the Fall. And she fretted over the raising of a child that she’d been in no way prepared for—and whose sire she now regarded with a further-complicated tangle of emotions. She had only just begun to embrace the budding friendship that their alliance had cultivated—and now found cause to mistrust Rougaru once again. Her encounter with Çiçek had planted those dark seeds, and ever since their roots had spread through the hardened soil of the silver bay’s heart. Too much had been inferred both in the golden mare’s behavior and in the vaguely-familiar features of the colt she’d birthed that Rivaini could not ignore.

In the couple days that had passed since, she also warred within herself over breaking the news to Solomon. If it had wounded her to see Çiçek in such condition, she could only imagine how the champagne king would feel. And so the red woman decided that it might be best to give her friend a couple days in which to reassemble the shattered pieces of herself. Tomorrow, Rivaini reaffirmed in the silence of her thoughts as her gaze traced the indefinite line between sea and sky. Tomorrow, she would go to Tinuvel—and pray that the words she needed in order to share what had happened would find her before then.

But that tomorrow would never come.

She was moments from abandoning her vigil to return to Faolain and Hades when the familiar call rang out. Solomon? Rivaini was frozen in shock and shame for an instant before her wooden legs began to carry her forward. How could she have missed his approach? Faolain had entrusted her with the safety of the Ridge’s herd, but she'd been watching only half-heartedly—more consumed by her thoughts than her vigil. If the visitor had been a foe instead of friend, Siobhan and her family might have paid the ultimate price for her carelessness. Sickened, the silver maned mare increased her pace—though the nearer she came to the call's source, the heavier the dread that dragged against her moving body. What was she going to say to Solomon?

The sight that greeted RIvaini on the beach was unexpected, pushed even this great concern from her thoughts. Accompanying Solomon was a filly who could not have been much older than Hades—the coppery Andalusian felt a brief flicker of indignant anger and her pointed ears twisted briefly back into the pale tangle of her mane. What could have possessed the stallion to risk a child’s life on such a dangerous journey? Stepping out into the open, she nickered a greeting to her old friend, though the warmth of the sound was not as unreserved as usual. “Solomon,” Rivaini said as soon as she was near enough to be heard. “This is… unusual. What brings you and this little one to the Ridge?”

Her pale eyes raked over the child’s figure, searching for any signs of injury or illness. When none were found, the tension beneath her skin did ease—but seeing the golden filly only served to remind her of Çiçek, and the mixed news that was her responsibility to impart. She knew that Solomon would want to know immediately that his lost mate had been found, just as she would have hoped for the same. But whatever else had brought him here was clearly just as critical—if not more. And if she did not wait for him to explain his purpose here in the Ridge before telling him that Çiçek was here, then the silver bay feared that she might never discover it.

Difficult though it might be to cling to the burden of truth for even a moment longer, Rivaini held her silence and waited for the Cove’s king to speak.

mare / seven / silver bay tobiano / andalusian mix / 15.3hh