a new world hangs outside the window
beautiful and strange
it must be I've fallen awake
I must be

Bacardi stood dutifully over her, day in and day out it seemed, while Wasp slowly recovered. The dark mare's feelings about this were of course mixed. Part of her was so proud to see the stallion he had grown up to be, but it was muddled with her guilt for leaving him without any word of where she was heading. The two of them had been through enough - Bacardi was born in a war, of all things, of which killed their mother. All they had left, well, all that Wasp had left, was him.

They hadn't talked much beyond their immediate needs. Macabre hadn't come up. Nor had the Peak, or even how Bacardi had ended up here in Tinuvel. They operated day by day. Bacardi had other responsibilities, but seemingly managed to always be not far from view. This was a comfort to Wasp most of the time, but it made her paranoid upon occasion.

She pawed at the semi-frozen earth, her chapped, whiskered lips pursing to pull at a somewhat-edible root when she heard the footsteps of another approaching. Instinctively, her heavy head shot up from the ground, and her amber eyes trained onto the young brown stallion who approached. She did nothing to shoo him off, but watched him from behind a skeptical glare as he lingered, bordering on intruding within her personal space.

She was certain he was a member of this herd, likely not Bacardi's small cohort but the greater family who lived here. She owed it to them to be somewhat hospitable, so her dark ears flicked forward when he spoke. Plumes of carbon dioxide shot into the air as she snorted in response, confused by the young stallion's question. "I'm nobody's trinket, if that's what you're asking." She grumbled with the flick of her matted tail.

Bacardi appeared in the distance shortly after, but did not approach. She caught her brother's eye and whinnied hoarsely to him, encouraging him to stride over. Whether this deterred the younger stallion from continuing the conversation or not, was really up to him.

"You look familiar." She blurted next to the fresh-faced stud. But her memory, of course, still wasn't reliable. He could truly be anybody. Or nobody.

W A S P