The voice that reached Faolain through the pattering of the rain was not the one she had expected to hear. The black mare’s ears swiveled to the sound, her loneliness temporarily forgotten, and she came to a halt with muddy water flying from her hooves.

Faolain turned, her eyes following the red shape of Siobhan as she approached her. Her heart was heavy with guilt at the sight of the Ridge’s mother, and for a brief second, she wondered if Sio were coming to chastise her for not properly severing Nyimara from the Ridge. But the thought was dispelled as soon as it had flickered to life in Faolain’s heavy mind, for she knew it was not Siobhan who resented the black mare for this failure, but Faolain herself. She stepped to meet the red mare, wiping her expression clean off any evidence of that uncomfortable, intrusive thought. “Siobhan,” she said, her voice betraying only mild surprise, though Faolain supposed she should have expected this conversation. Her ears twisted uncertainly. An apology sat ready on her tongue as the two mares reached each other and fell still, but to Faolain’s surprise, Sio thanked her.

For a few seconds, the Ridge leader stood there stupidly, unsure how to react. She had always prided herself in her objectivity, and in her ability to be self-aware, and to some degree she did understand that the individuals who relented after Sio were unusually cruel and determined. Despite this knowledge, she could not shake the feeling of failure that plagued her - and Ailill, she was sure - after every new challenge, and especially following every lost battle, even those she did not fight herself. The feeling was akin to the challengers themselves; toxic and merciless, a symptom of Nyimara’s spreading venom. It was unlike her to become wrapped up in her failures, and so, consequently, Faolain had come to understand that there must be weight behind these shortcomings. It was for this reason that she was truly thrown off by Siobhan’s words, far more so than her pleas for the black mare to stay in the Ridge rather than be taken to Cullen’s abhorrent lair. That, at least, had made sense, though Faolain hated to admit it.

“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted finally. “I am... trying my best.” She looked to the other mare, and saw that there was more to be said. Faolain’s ears cupped forward attentively, but when Siobhan found the words to lay out her request, they splayed again with as Faolain was hit with a wave of horror.

“Why?” she said at first, but it sounded cold, and Faolain had not meant for it to. This was different in so many ways than Rivaini’s sacrifice, but ultimately, it was the same.

The initial horror washed over her, leaving shame in its wake, and she lowered her chiseled head with the weight of it. “I’m not sure if you know about Hades,” she said, not knowing how else to explain the intensity of her reaction, and equally ignorant of Sio’s possible prior knowledge of this particular detail of the Ridge’s politics. “Rougaru challenged for an alliance with the Ridge, sealed with a child between us. I could not decline. He won the right, but Rivaini made a deal with him - I didn’t know - and carried his child instead. I know this is different...” she stopped, rolling the words over in her head, struggling to find a way to describe why this alternative made her hair bristle so.

“Even if Rivaini had told me her plans,” she continued, looking back up to meet Siobhan’s gaze. “I could not have stopped her.” She fell quiet again, still struggling with the words, and with the evolving feelings she was experiencing. She could not understand why the red mare would offer this alternative, and although her skin crawled at the thought of Cullen’s yellow hide touching her own in any measure, she was equally horrified when she thought of him anywhere near Sio. “I’m sorry. I just feel terrible for having another person take that fall for me,” she admitted. “I am afraid that a child will tie you even tighter to Nyimara.”

She paused. “I am afraid of the whole thing.”

Faolain cursed herself inwardly. It was her own fault. If she had not tried to bargain with Cullen, a child would have never been part of the deal. She could not allow Siobhan to suffer the consequences of her own foolishness. Yes, she was frightened - terribly so. But not as badly as she was a year ago, when Rougaru’s challenge had driven her mad with anxiety. She had even been considering a child of her own anyway when Cullen so conveniently offered one up. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Faolain, and she tilted her head to Siobhan quizzically.

“Do you... want to do this? Or do you feel like you need to?”