Her heart hovered somewhere in her throat while she rested in the shade, her dark-tipped ears flicking to and fro as she attempted to listen for her daughter beneath the jungle's
natural cacophony. Promise was nearly a year and a half old now, more than old enough to spend an afternoon playing in a pond alone, especially with her mother hovering fretfully only a short call away, but the separation was still hard for the tobiano. Promise was her whole world, and while she was working on expanding her world again in the wake of Sigurdr's abandonment, she was still struggling with the change.

"She's fine," the pinto murmured sternly under her breath, trying to convince herself that it was the truth. Her daughter had been born and raised in this jungle and knew well the dangers she faced. She knew which snakes to avoid and which to ignore. Knew to listen to the silence of the jungle to read the approach of a predator. And knew the deer paths that might carry her away from any such danger if they appeared.

And yet Hymn still fretted.

She stayed firmly in one place, one hip cocked in a mockery of relaxation, but every muscle across the rest of her body was tense as if she might have to spring into motion once more. Mentally, she lectured herself and forced her posture to straighten with a snap of her dark tail, but it wasn't long before she was once again worrying the inside rim of her bottom lip between her teeth again, counting down the sunny afternoon hours until the agreed upon curfew.