A flash of silver on the cap of a dune catches Fell’s gaze. He lifts his head, curled ears cupping forward as Nyimara descends to the beach. Between his feathered hooves, Kæja sleeps soundly.

She seems interested enough once she reaches them, though Fell does not miss the irritation evident in the emphasis of the word unexpected. He bristles, but only because the negative emotions of others, be it irritation or outright anger, is kerosene to his own rage. He can only ever escalate. Still, he forces himself not to grow frustrated; after all, if Nyimara were to show up unannounced on the shores of Tinuvel, Fell would be equally put off. He bites his tongue (not like he could have said something stupid anyway) and nods.

Nyimara addresses the filly in the sand, her gaze curious and… surprised? Fell only nods again, reaching down to ruffle the forelock of the tiny girl. She wakes, slowly blinking baby-blue eyes up at him. It is obvious the filly does not immediately understand where she is, or how she got there, and she casts about anxiously as the realization sets in that this is not home, and mother is not here. Fell silences her soft babbling with a press of his whiskered lips against her tiny mahogany muzzle. He breathes softly against her fuzzy, baby-soft coat, swallowing the knot of pain that gathers in his throat at the sweet scent of foal.

She calms.

Nyimara waits for an explanation, and there are only so many ways Fell can give her one. He lifts his gaze to his half-sister again, his face hardening with constitution, and gestures to the child on the ground with a dip of his head. Then he looks pointedly at Nyimara, and then around her, searching; his nostrils flutter, scenting the air.

Nyimara is nursing, and Fell searches for her newborn.

It can’t be far away. His sister is not one to leave her children for very long, attended or otherwise. His gaze flicks back to hers, and he gestures toward himself, bumping his whiskered chin against his chest. Then his muzzle dips again, and he nudges the exhausted filly toward his sister.

She could refuse him, if she wanted to, but she will be stuck with Fell for a time if that is the case. The filly is in no shape to survive the swim home, and Fell will not leave her here… not without Nyimara’s child, anyway. The silver bay can interpret this how she likes; as leaders, they both know that plenty of alliances have been forged and strengthened by the fostering of an ally’s children. If they make this exchange, the two will be bound together until the foals come of age. It could be a positive thing; something that families do.

But Fell suspects Nyimara will see this trade for what it really is: an insurance policy. If she accepts, both leaders will submit to a stalemate with each other. It’s a far cry for any sort of friendship, but it requires zero trust. Whatever happens to one foal will happen to the other.

The siblings would be forced to work together.

Fell is unsure what to expect from Nyimara as he waits for her to puzzle it out. On the one hand, she is fiercely protective of her children, and not likely to send one of them away. On the other, Fell is handing her an incredible amount of power over him. Under any other circumstance, he is certain the silver bay mare would waste no time snapping up such an opportunity.

He waits, and wonders.

FELL

stallion. 16hh. black. marwari x. Rougaru x visurix.