There is a tension that exists between them the instant that Kohelet speaks, and it sits like a giant boulder between them. The painted mare cannot know of Maeve's history, but she can sense, just a little, of her unhappiness. Contrasted against her own (mostly) contented life here in the Bay there was a sharp difference. And while recent events had made her angry and even frustrated, she had lived through comparatively little strife. Fell had done well at protecting her from each new attempt from Salem to steal her, and from the wolves during Una's birth, and from the untold other things that he could not tell her about.

Fell wasn't perfect, but he was close enough for her.

Still, Kohelet isn't immediately sure what Maeve means by the word deamhan. It is close enough to demon that her mind leaps to it first, but it is not until the giant red mare clarifies that she spends time with him that Koh is certain. The longer Maeve talks, the more obvious it becomes that she is unhappy here and held against her will, which makes Kohelet's stomach churn uneasily. Fell's animalistic tendencies to keep anything he could get ahold of were not something that she could change, but this knowledge had never made them easier to live with. And this time, there would be no Solomon come to save this mare as Kolfinna had had.

"I do," she answers quietly, with gentle conviction. "I chose Fell when he first came to Tinuvel, and it is through his care and protection that I have built my family. He is..." she hesitates, not because she does not believe the words she says, but because she does not want to undermine Maeve's feelings. Kohelet knew that her own relationship with the mute stallion was vastly different from most others, but she wished that Maeve (and the others) would give him a chance. For all of his brutality and pig-headedness, he was sweet underneath. A doting father and a dedicated lover. "Fell is not perfect, but I do love him."

She lets that sit for a moment, her gaze searching the mare's face. "I am sorry you are not happy here," she says quietly, but does not offer a promise of freedom that she is neither capable of nor willing to grant. Title or not, the Bay was Fell's herd, not hers. "Is there anything I can do to help?"