There would likely always be stories that Daire would rather keep to herself, but the inky black female listens attentively as Zevulun tells his own of his time here in the Prairie. The stallion had only led here for about four years now, having lived alongside another male before taking over after his friend's passing. Daire knew well the amount of turmoil that can occur within a few scant years. She had "left" her birth family, gotten pregnant a few times, caused scenes, ruffled feathers, walked thousands of miles, and numerous other things that were harder for her to think about. Her eldest children, for example, were raised by their respective fathers in her absence. Why? What reasons did she have to cause chaos in their lives and choose to leave them over and over again? No explanation she came up with ever seemed good enough to justify it all.

The Daire of the past had been a spiteful, angry, lonely, little thing. It felt like she had always been alone and ignored. She tried everything she could think of as a youngster to keep her small family from unraveling, but her attempts failed one after the other. What started as laughter to raise their spirits became long talks to heal and bond, but it devolved into to thundering arguments, scathing insults, and eventually silence. She can't remember now who left first, but her mother, father, and older sister scattered to the winds, leaving Daire to find her way.

She fell in with various small bands over a few years, praised for her beauty and lavished with attention. Daire basked in it, reveled in it, and the vanity sunk into her bones until she was deluded into thinking that she would always have the best of anything. It intertwined her with her anger and wandering soul until Daire was looking for attention and any way she could get it. It turned into her chasing whatever so-and-so of current notoriety she thought she could throw her lot in with, and then there was a foal. How could she possibly raise a child when she was this flighty immature thing who didn't know anything, much less how to be a mother? So she left and inevitably looked for the thrill of the next chase and the next.

Rowan really just happened to be the stallion she bumped into next. She'd heard about him, his ties to other known stallions and their herd, but it could have been anyone. Daire admittedly thought about leaving once their first daughter was born. Looking back, she must have been scared to bring a daughter and then two into her chaos, knowing what her parents had done to her. In her selfish, twisted youth, however, seeing the effect her presence and that of her young daughters had each time on Akita gave her some sick joy. It gave her the attention she craved; her presence, though detested, was very much noticed. She had hated Akita, and, in the sobering years since her departure, she had figured out why: Akita had everything she wanted.

The black mare had definitely not gone about things in a remotely nice or healthy way, but that was at the root of it. Akita had the love of a stallion, a secure place in the herd, many beautiful doting children, among other things. Sure, Rowan screwed around with her, but Akita had his heart. Sure, Daire always managed to come back after wandering, but displeasure and hate was the only thing waiting for her. And children? Daire had lost any proper claim to her daughters with Rowan years ago. Akita might have been right to trade her away, oust her from the one place she seemed to always come back to, if for no other reason than to protect their family. Their family, not hers. Daire had no place except as the thorn in their side, a nuisance to be swatted away. Thinking back now, Daire wasn't sure why Rowan didn't do it himself to begin with if he cared about Akita and her feelings so much. What a dick.

Zevulun's words brought the brindled mare back to the present and away from the shame of her past. "I was never brought up to be a leader,” the creamy male states. “So it’s taken some learning for me to understand the gravity of this role, but I like to think I’ve come into it rather well, at the risk of sounding overly cocky.” His humor was a balming warmth to the black mare; how long had it been since someone jested with her and meant well? His wink elicited a small chuckle from her, a foreign sensation to be sure. The snippet of a laugh withered and died in her throat when Daire looked away from Zevulun and saw her eldest daughter, Riesling, standing mere meters away. Any smile the brindled mare had before was gone, and her stomach sank. A world away from everything they knew, and here they were. The anxiety at the sudden reunion chokes her. Unlike Riesling, who sweeps forward angrily, Daire freezes. Her mouth moves soundlessly, as if to form words that do not come. She wasn't ready for this.

“I leave you alone for a few seasons to recover our daughter that you allowed to be stolen to find out you've knocked up my mother?” The words hiss from Riesling's lips vehemently. Daire's eyes glance between them appalled. Daughter? Dazed, Daire wonders how she managed to go home with the one stallion on these islands who she shouldn't have. Yet again, fucking up everything for her daughter. Riesling is a flash of movement, making Daire's brain finally snap into action. Riesling glances backward, perhaps thinking about an escape, prompting Daire's mouth to say actual words this time. All she could manage to stammer forth was that Lir was not Zevulun's nor was the one within her. She wants to say something -- anything -- to apologize for being the royal fuck-up she was, to say she wasn't worthy of being her mother, but Riesling spoke first: “What are you doing here, Daire? Did they finally cast you aside, tired of sharing the same fickle plaything? Only you could be left behind an ocean away and turn up again where you aren’t wanted.”

The words are a cold shock to her system. The prideful dead thing under her skin screams that those are Akita's words and how dare she poise Riesling against her! Her brown eyes water, betraying her hurt at hearing her inner demon's words aloud. She knows what her daughter says about her is true, and Daire can only feel shame under the spotlight. The brindle cannot bear to look at Zevulun or her son and would have rather been smote on the spot than do Riesling the injustice of trying to apologize for what cannot be forgiven. Riesling looks away from her dismissively, asking after their daughter again before saying that they (they?) would get out of their way. The grief aches in her soul, lacing the sad smile on Daire's lips as the mare looks away from the pair and into the distance numbly. Softly, to herself, she half-whispers,
"Yes.. only me."