Her birthing grounds; she remembered them, always. They plagued her mind constantly, despite having nothing to really keep her anchored to them. So on one particular cold day of solitude and discontent, the blue mare decided she’d make a not-so-grand return. There would be few who remembered her -- if any, at all. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what being loved, let alone remembered felt like. There was little need for her to seek out any individuals. For the blue child was a mare without a proper name. So when the blue child of the valkyrie of the great mountains pulled herself ashore, she gave a mighty shake, and would promptly trot in-land.. Where, eventually, she finds herself lost in a maze of disheveled, unmanaged trees.
‘Who is there’
A voice called out, and from out of the snowy, gnarled thicket, the pony would emerge. She doesn’t seem overly concerned that the sleeping trees and shrubs clawed at her dense winter coat and scruffy mane and tail. Instead, she presses forward, as though it were nothing. ‘Finally!’ Blue thought, ‘There’s where I need to be!’ Out, her accented tune called, “ Worry not, sweet bonny lass; ‘tis only I. “ she called out in return, if only to ease Vassa’s concern that a devil may be coming for her. She sounds like a mongrel raider from the north; for her tune was raspy, assertive, and she clearly had no problem elevating her voice.
There stood the blue mare, who looked in fine spirits and wonderful health. She is stocky and round. While her winter coat does a wonderful job of hiding the marks of battle that line her barrel and hips, one can get the idea that this mare is no stranger to making her presence not only known, but also asserted into a position of authority. This all stemming from the way she carries herself, and the way she does not hesitate to approach Vassa.
Curiosity was a funny thing; it doesn’t seem to matter that this red mare was a stranger. The nameless blue child was going to greet her, and in horse society? There was only one way to do so.
So the blue mare extends her head and neck, offering her nose so that they breathe in each other’s breath. “ Ya seem like the fearless sort, ta sound so flustered while holdin’ yer ground. “ The blue mare replies with a degree of amusement. Curiously, she does not introduce herself. At least, not yet.