pull up the ladder when the flood comes
The rugged face of the Peak looms authoritatively before Vihar, reaching jaggedly into the clouds. She has been to the Crossing before, but has never paid much attention to the home of the sisterhood. It is more than just one mountain, in fact, though the Peak’s namesake does tower above the rest of the stony cluster. Vihar wonders how anyone can make the trip to the summit in a day, or at all – it looks so far away, and dizzyingly close to the heavens.
Namir had helped to fill the emptiness Hex had left, but he no longer needed her full attention, so the void continued to yawn without much distraction. Vihar was not so quick to call this grief (she was loath to admit that kind of weakness) but she could not deny that it was obstructing her, whatever it was. The Cove was always full of children, bitter reminders of the little roan filly, so Vihar had left. The Crossing was not much better, but at least she had stallions aplenty to chase off and sometimes brutalize if necessary. She did not like the attention, but it was better to be somewhere within the range of annoyed to enraged than… sad.
She had hoped the Peak would call her into its heights, maybe even help heal some of the broken parts of her, but it does not seem to be doing much of anything at all, let alone persuasion. No mares are present along the visible paths, beyond where the trees thin out and snow remains patched along the ridges year round. She supposes there is at least one habitable valley up there, where trees and grass and other plants are still able to grow. If she goes searching for it without a guide, will she find it before the sun sets? Will she find it at all, or will she lose her footing and tumble to her death?
Vihar stands for a long time, gazing up at the slopes, lost in thought, until she takes a single, tentative step toward the Peak.
mare | classic champagne dun roan tobaino | 14.3hh | Solomon x Nadja