.Twinge.

Twinge had no quarrel with the Forest or Luthien in general. To be perfectly honest, she preferred the milder climate to the harsh winters of Tinuvel anyway. However she also knew her stallion. Bacardi has spoken time and again of his history with the mountain mares and life on Tinuvel. Much of his youth had been spent racing across snow laden meadows and over rocky crevices of the foothills nearest the tall peaks. Havelle, yes that was her name. Havelle his first love. Whose departure from the islands had hardened his heart in much the same way her own father’s disappearance had raised the shields around her own. He told her stories of Havelle and their adventures together, told her of their wild, headlong races and carefree hearts. That was back when he had no responsibilities and obligations, back when he had been free to come and go as he pleased and answered to no one except himself.

For a time, listening to those stories, Twinge felt the first hints of jealousy tugging at what she called her heart. The longing that always accompanied his golden eyes, the small smile that twitched the corners of his ashen lips, even the soft sigh of contentment that left his lungs used to twist the knife deeper. Then, mother came to visit. ’How can you fight a ghost?’ the words had been meant more for her own fate than that of her daughter’s jealousy but still, there was absolution in them. Why should she fight a ghost? Havelle was gone and she was here. The dun mare may be locked deep in his memories but she had this moment to herself. The other mares of his herd might be his compassion and gentleness, they needed his reassurances and understanding. Twinge… Twinge wanted the fire and the spirit, the wildness and carefree resilience. Sure he had responsibilities now just as she herself did, but that did not mean that for a time, he could wholly belong to her.

A single ear twitches at the sound of his voice. Those feral golden eyes sparkle as he replies with that coy grin upon his whiskered lips. ’... you complained less when we lived in the thicket.’ A wry smile curves across her own ash dusted labrums as she snakes her neck forward to nip his muscular two-toned shoulder in playful admonition. ”Just because I remarked once that the thorny bushes were excellent backscratchers does not mean I complained less… you just didn’t hear it.” she teases, whisking her red and white tail in his direction. No. She had no problems with Luthien, especially now that the winter months were upon them. Already her belly was beginning to swell with the new life deep inside and it would not be long before even the smallest incline stole her energy away. ’It feels good to be home.’ the words fall from the stallion’s lips and Twinge dips her own head in agreement. Though their trip to the mainland had been an adventure that she would never forget, there was something about returning to the islands where they were born that made her feel at home. Home. Bacardi gives his thickly muscled neck a shake, sending a spray of water droplets raining down on her own slow drying coat. She offers him an annoyed glare though even that did not seem to have the same effect with the mischievous smile across her lips. He steps away, eager to see the changes in the landscape beyond the beach. Small, cupped ears perk forward as the fine boned mare picks up her own feet to eagerly join him. ”Did you used to live here too?” she asks, eager to continue to grow her knowledge of the stallion that led the way down the twisting trails through the dense forest..