EACH HORIZON IS A NEW BEGINNING
There had hardly been a moment in her young life when Eivor had not felt death snapping at her heels. Her mother, a fierce, strong creature, had raised her to be ever wary, and had uttered the ominous warning time and time again:
one day, ástvinur, you’ll have to outrun him all alone – I won’t always be with you. Little did they know that such a day would come upon them so soon.
Dragging herself ashore, the brown mare turned to scan the stormy ocean she’d just crossed, green eyes narrowing as she habitually searched for a form between the frothing caps of the waves that was not there (and would never be found), and the young mare hunched her shoulders against the bitter wind rolling in off the sea. Winter would soon be upon these islands, and the lone mare was determined to find a place to weather it in relative safety. Time was of the essence, and Eivor would not tarry.
She had a promise to keep.
“Ég mun hefna ţín,” The words were a rumble in her throat, and her eyes narrowed as the ocean rumbled back, but she lingered no longer, and stalked through the mist that shrouded the meadow, prowling like a hungry wolf on the hunt. She roamed, restless despite her exhaustion, stopping only a moment to slake her thirst at a small trickling stream. Glad to be rid of the saltiness in her mouth, she resumed, not knowing exactly what it was she searched for (but certain, had
faith, that she would recognise it when she found it).
Though young, aside from a healthy dose of caution that had always served her well, she was unafraid, and did not show any sign of hesitation as she navigated this strange new land. There was nothing for it to wait for the fog to thin, really, and so she took up watch atop the rise of a small hillock, a stoic and silent sentinel in the gloaming. It was not ideal to spend the night alone, but Eivor much preferred her chances fighting for survival at night upon solid ground, rather than braving the endless waters again.
