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The winter months had been long and cruel, filled with dark nights and even colder weather. The snows had fallen thickly upon the uppermost peaks, urging even the most surefooted of mountain mares to linger closer to the lowest forests and meadows in search of food. Perhaps it was the child within her that caused her such misery, or merely that Khar’pern had forgotten what struggles came with pregnancy. Either way, she had grown increasingly short-tempered and irritable as of late, something made worse by the near-constant pestering of Lagoon stallions on their doorsteps. It was as if the damned beasts were determined to test her last threads of patience.

But the warm spring winds that blew down the mountainsides brought with them a promise of new life and rebirth. Already, the frozen rivers and streams were swelling with runoff and the warmth of the lengthening days revealed fresh green shoots of grass in the open meadows. It would be months still before the snow retreated fully to the uppermost peaks but at least there was promise with each blossoming day.

Khar ambled slowly through the thin layer of ice and snow that still coated the forest floor. The swell of her rounded belly swung like the pendulum it had become. By the gods she was ready to meet whatever child it was that had come from her coupling with the passing nomad, but more than anything, she was ready to be able to move with ease again. Her brows furrowed with frustration as yet another kick against her ribs reminded her that she was not entirely alone in her discomfort. The rose-colored mare bites back a groan as the child shifts positions, causing her steps to halt until the creature settles once more. At this rate, she would accomplish very little. All tasks could be managed or shifted to others like Ashteroth… except one.

Far slower than she would have liked, Khar’pern managed to find herself in the green growing fields of the lower pastures. Silver eyes scan the loosely gathered souls until her gaze settles on the notable form of Marceline. The red-spotted mare has continued season after season to spout sermons of Khar’s lack of discipline and direction but even with that knowledge standing so clearly painted as the spots on Marceline’s shoulders, Khar cannot find an enemy in her. The once-queen merely wants to see change. The same thing she herself continued to try to instill upon the rest of the mares who called themselves sisters.

Slowly she ambled towards the woman, her sharp eyes noting the similar swell of the unborn child. Perhaps the reason the red mare too seemed to stick to the lower meadows these days. The rose-gray woman clears her throat as she nears, dipping her finely dished head ever so slightly in greeting. ”Marceline…” she beings, pausing a moment before continuing, ”It is good to see you again. I wish to thank you deeply for stepping in to protect our prisoners.” she adds, a light chuckle leaving her lips as she continues, ”I find it harder and harder to be everywhere at once these days.” she finishes with a bright smile. There. She had started to bridge the gap.

She clears her throat again as the chuckle dies away, ”I was hoping you might spare a few moments to speak with me… if you have the time.” she asks, her futed ears tilted forward amid the silken tendrils of her obsidian mane. Maybe now she could finally get a feel for the red queen and perhaps even understand a bit more about her intentions and ambitions moving forward.

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