Rivaini

Unlike Faolain and Hades, the silver bay had weathered the Ridge’s most recent tragedy without any visible injuries— but she still suffered.

It was never easy for Rivaini to part from her beloved shadow in the moments before a battle, knowing that there was a possibility the slender woman might not return to her. Or that even if she did, the black ‘Teke was unlikely to be the same. Of course, scars in themselves were not such a terrible thing, particularly since their presence was a testament to what equine bodies could endure and overcome. But the resilience of spirit was another matter entirely. Pain had a way of changing those whom it touched, of hollowing out the chambers of their heart— or worse, hardening them against the world. And while Faolain had so far escaped this consequence of her suffering, the chocolate colt whom both Guardians loved had not.

Even before the Lagoon’s Boss attacked him, Hades had never been a particularly demonstrative child. He welcomed the attention of his own kind eagerly enough— leaning into the gentle touches of his elders, curling up next to whatever warm body was readily available when he slept. Chasing the other foals in a game where squeals and nips were exchanged as freely as the breaths that they drew. But the dark chestnut was never a creature of many words, and was not the type to seek out affection that wasn’t freely offered. And now— now such intimacy was not only uninvited, but unwelcome. At the first press of whiskered lips, Hades was prone to bare his teeth and back away, the deep brown of his coat trembling uncontrollably. He still played, still nipped, and still curled up beside Faolain or Rivaini to sleep. But there was a distance between him and the rest of the world that no amount of determination could breach— and a wild wariness to him that no amount of gentleness could tame.

So while Faolain slowly banished her anger, the silver bay who loved her clung to the hatred that blossomed in the dark soil of her heart. Only days ago, she’d even stolen away to battle the Lagoon for their since-dethroned ruler... and lost. If her little shadow had noticed the marks that Rivaini carried from that battle, however, she forbore to mention them. Following her example, the red Guardian made no confession of her impulsive challenge— or of her intention to repeat it. If it took a lie of omission to protect Faolain from fear and concern, then she would hold onto both her secrets and her guilt until one triumphed over the other.

Thankfully, life in the Ridge was far too busy for Rivaini to dwell on her own unresolved internal conflict. So while she was not quite whole, the tobiano mare was able to throw herself into the future and leave the past behind her.

Of course, this forgetfulness was doomed to last only as long as the Ridge’s peace, which had always been an ephemeral thing. And today— today it was broken by the sight of two unfamiliar figures picking their way across the thin strip of beach. By the scent of unfamiliar stallion that wound its way up into the jungle of her home, and then mingled with the perfume of the one whom Rivaini loved. Flattening her ears, the silver bay swept across the remaining distance that separated her and Faolain, heedless of the errant branches that whipped at her skin. Arriving in time to hear the dark Teke greet the strangers, Rivaini stepped wordlessly out from the shadows, hovering both protectively and posessively behind the smaller mare as she asked about their intentions here. With the turning of the seasons and Cullen’s dark bargain in her thoughts, she was all too aware of what might have drawn them here— and all too eager to see them back out again.

Faolain was hers, and she had no intention of surrendering that claim to a stallion without a fight.

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