Days stretched into weeks with no word, and Solomon grew uneasy. It was one thing to accept that she may be angry with him for his absence - he deserved it, after all, for abandoning them - but it was another for her to continue to snub his summons. It was unlike Valka to abandon the rigid rules of hierarchy, even if she disliked having him as her monarch and this holding pattern left him uneasy.

He would have expected a battle cry… not sullen silence.

It did occur to him that there was a chance that Bacardi had simply not conveyed his message at all. That the insolent tobiano had allowed their mutual dislike to interfere with his duties as Valka's second and Solomon's subject. But Solomon had resolved to trust the irritating colt, and to respect that Valka had placed him where she had for a reason, even if he could not see it.

It had even crossed his mind that she might be avoiding him because of the season. He had meant it when he had promised her that he would not take something from her that she would not give, but he also knew that he had not always been a man of his word in the past. Perhaps she no longer trusted him to take care of her in such a fashion, or maybe it was that she did not trust herself to tell him no if they were together. The last was far too hopeful and he knew it was not centered in reality. Valka was far more likely to distrust everyone else before it she would second guess her own decisions, at least in his experience.

Still, his patience had worn to its breaking point. Regardless of whether or not Valka wanted to see him, she was going to. He needed to be certain that she was alright and whole. That their child - filly or colt - lived and thrived beneath the skjaldmær's care as their firstborn had. And that their alliance could continue unbroken while unrest threatened to erupt to north. He needed to know that he had his shieldmaiden at his side if he was going to continue ruling as he had; his loss against Rougaru had proven that to him.

And he'd be lying if he didn't acknowledge the deep yearning inside his chest that ached to see if she still cared.

Brazenly, the tobiano king did not hesitate at the borders as he usually might. They had come through far too much for him to tiptoe over her feelings, but he didn't hurry either. His muzzle skimmed the ground, hungry for the news that the earth would impart to him. Only snippets came - the faint trail of Brynja and her child made him smile but the bolder tracks of Bacardi making rounds made his ears pin briefly. A lone filly's scent was there too and his heart clenched with the possibility of it being his own child. The scent of Valka - prominent and constant - reassured him of her presence but did nothing to allay his other worries. So she was here then… so why had she not come?

Further in came the trail of Ylva, but not of her knight in shining black armor. He wondered if the brute had simply grown tired of waiting for Ylva to change her mind, and then discarded the thought. It did not matter if Ylva had left him or not, the bare fact remained that she was alone and she had still not chosen him. He had hoped that Ylva's proximity to the Cove would afford him a chance to get to know her better, and to show her that his affection for her was not transitory, despite their limited interactions. Instead, it had served as a poignant reminder of how little interest she seemed to have for him.

The realization of his waning status sobered him further, and he lifted his head from the soil to call out for the Bay's matriarch. Somehow, it didn't feel like he was going to leave with good news today and he braced himself for the worst.

Solomon