She hadn’t yet adjusted to the cold. Winter was going to be another challenge altogether. Vera could already feel her winter coat starting to shed in, and she knew she’d have to brace herself for the bitterness and the chill for the duration. She’s grateful for the trees, though, and happy to lead the way. Walking by Zevulun’s side, Vera feels a strange sense of ease creep back in. He’s been kind to her, and she feels no danger. Hearing her name from his lips, she would have blushed if she could.
My family used to rule the Bay years ago, her ears flickered. The sooty mare looked to him for a moment, before her gaze flickered back to the path before them. In her gaze, there was a bit of awe. To have that much history in a place… she couldn’t fathom it. It was all so beyond her. Zevulun, Vera would commit to her memory. She would hold onto it for now. His question was soft, conversational. “Not long, this is my second season here.” Her words were gentle. “I’m honestly a little worried about my first winter, it’s so much colder than I’m used to,” the remark was soft. He would understand, right? Maybe it wasn’t so bad if you were used to it though. Maybe Vera was too soft for the harrowing climate.
As they settled among the trees, Valka answered the call. She approached quickly, eating the ground between them with an intensity that caught the meek mare a bit off guard. Still, she was gentle as she reached out to greet Vera first, and then the pale man at her side. Softly, the sooty mare returned the gesture. “This is Zevulun, from the Prairie.” Vera’s words were meek as she introduced the man to her queen. “Zevulun this is Valka, our skjaldmær,” Vera struggled with the pronunciation of their lead’s title, but she was trying her best. Her glance to Valka was apologetic, more than a little sheepish. All Vera could do was her best. In these moments, all she hoped was to bridge the gap between the two leads before her.
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