VaLkA

mare / six / chestnut pangare / yakut / 13.0 hh

Valka didn’t know what she’d hoped for in being open and honest with the sable boy. Not gratitude or forgiveness or even understanding; those were gifts that even she still struggled to offer. Why else would she have chosen to punish someone for a deed they’d done years in the past? Because it only ended there for me, if the rumors are to be believed. Rougaru was not the type to challenge the strong, but the sort who preyed upon the weak. And if it wasn’t for that simple truth, the Wolf-King would have come howling onto her shores long ago. This sobering thought restored a measure of the wall she’d torn down, and let her face the boy’s answer unflinchingly. Because of course it was never as easy as simply putting things back the way they had been before. If it was, then the skjaldmær would still have her brother-in-arms Goose at her side. Would still hold onto whatever piece of Tinuvel’s King that she’d been permitted.

My father honors his debts.

When he is forced to, she wants to point out. When there is no other choice. But in the interest of keeping this first conversation civil, the fluffy chestnut guarded her tongue even more closely than her heart. Listen; she would listen. She had spoken enough, and it changed nothing— now was not the time for more words, but for silence. If the seal brown stallion was free, then he was also free to say and believe what he would of the woman who’d torn him from his home. Valkia only hoped that eventually his resentment would fade enough for him to hear her, too.

If I return now, what do you really think I will face in Paradise? The Yakut found it harder to ignore this question, and was fortunate that Rougaru’s son did not wait for her answer. Whether he didn’t care to hear it or thought that she would have none to give, he turned back to her with a cold anger that penetrated the thick orange coat no winds could. Whether you intended it or not, you have trapped me here as effectively as any prison. The skjaldmær’s small red ears laid back reflexively in response to his ire, but she didn’t argue. What he said... it was true, and fair. And what he felt— that was fair, too.

Where do I eat? Sleep? Drink? For lack of common ground, the focus of their talk shifted to the most basic of needs. In a way, it was a relief to the emotionally-challenged mare, but also not. Because feelings, Valka knew, could fade— but they could also fester, too. Without a key to the mahogany boy’s heart, however, she could only wait and see which would prove true. “Herd gathers behind bluff to north,” she answered curly, twitching her small skull to indicate the right direction. “Food and sleep there. Drink... the streams are frozen. Break through ice or chew snow, but not too much. It can freeze you from inside.”

The young stallion was used to the comforts of a tropical climate, and life here would be hard. But hard lives bred hard creatures— so long as he survived, he would be stronger for it. Whether or not that strength would be to Valka’s detriment remained to be seen.