Meadow

each horizon is a new beginning,
rise & reign

The silver maned mare considered the painted stallion’s observation, and shook her head in slight bemusement as he guessed the meaning of the word she had spoken. “In your tongue, it means warrior,” she explained, and though her voice remained soft, as she continued to speak, the words took on a hard edge to them, one that did not so much cast judgement than it did sing huskily of a bone-deep pride. “There are as many mares who are warriors as stallions, and they are just as brave and fierce in battle, if not more so.”

She lapsed into silence and shifted her weight, turning to survey the swirling mists around them, twisting one slender, raggedy-edged ear back to Akello when he spoke again. “Different lands indeed,” she murmured in reply. “Where I was born, to voice such a thing - to seek reassurance - is akin to expressing doubt of one’s own worth.” No sooner had the words left her lips did the young mare snort softly, frustrated with herself for what she had said, or perhaps the way it might come across.

“Warriors are always welcome company, unless they have lost favour in some way. In these cases, they would be challenged and have to fight, not to maim or kill, but rather to attempt to earn back the trust and approval they’d once held.” The sooty mare had turned back to face Akello, eyes searching his face as she spoke, as if seeking to learn something from what she might see there. All movement had ceased in her - she had become as still as stone upon the telling of her homeland, and there was only a gentle flick of her tail to punctuate the silence as she paused to draw breath and resume. “If they prevail, then they are accepted back warmly, but if they failed… Those who still have sense, who still feel respect for their brothers and sisters, would withdraw, and focus on building themselves back up.”

Where once she had appeared withdrawn, and more than a little guarded, the wolf-mare came alive as she spoke of the place that evidently meant much to her, and at once there was both a fire flickering in her eyes and a rawness to the cant of her words, so that she was ever so much more an enigma - a being in whom there existed fierce loyalty and immense loss. “Those who became disillusioned, or who allowed the bitterness of their defeat were cast out, because they could no longer be relied upon to protect the backs of their kin in battle.”

As she trailed off, there was a shifting in her posture and her manner, so that once again she seemed guarded in every way (and yet, no sign of aggression or outright defensiveness was yet evident). And she shrugged her shoulders, as if quietly attempting to dismiss the passion with which she had spoken. But not the meaning. “Perhaps in this land such ways would seem harsh, and would find no place here. But can you not see the wisdom in such a mentality, and how it serves to protect?” And her soft green eyes scrutinised as she waited for his answer

She turned away from him.

Heading into the thinning mist, she stopped and curled her muzzle about to glance back at him over her shoulder. “You are welcome, Akello,” she said, with a gruff kind of warmth, inviting him to her side with a curt dip of her chin. She did not wait, and continued on her way, a crooked smile ghosting across her face when he fell into step beside her. At his words in answer to her question, she watched him from the corner of her eye, something flickering across her features for the briefest of moments,

“Curious. Like the vitringur I knew in my homeland - one who was known for his wisdom and often sought out by those who needed guidance,” the mare who had not yet named herself slowed to a halt, and grunted her grudging admiration. “I sense in you a discerning spirit. It is wise of you to seek to prepare yourself for trials you may yet face. But I would know, since you say you are willing to use your strength to lay claim to what you want - that there is no hesitation in you in such moments… What is it you want in life?”

As for the answer to the question that had been put forward to her by Akello?

The young warrior mare shook her tangled mane and planted her hooves firmly on the dry earth beneath her hooves, and lifted her chin, grinning wildly a moment as she boldly declared (perhaps a little too brightly so as to chase away the shadow that darkened her eyes like a storm upon the horizon): “I fight for what is mine.”