Baba Yaga had her head low, pushing through the snow and down to the soft grass beneath the fine white powder. WIth her nose so buried in the snow, she had not picked up on Maples scent until it was far too late. She knew the young mare harbored this place as her home, but with pregnancy so high on her body and the need for sustenance so strong, the grey draft had no choice but to find a place to feed. She could have gone to other places, but right now she could not think to walk that far and as she pulled in a large bite of wet grass, the mare stilled as the angry voice of Maple sounded behind her.

Lifting her head slowly, Yaga turned to look over at Maple with grass hanging from her lips and her ears flowy lowering back against her pole. No words left her lips for the longest time as she slowly pulled the grass into her mouth. It took her a bit to fully chew the strands, but after she swallowed them, the mare let out a deep breath with a sigh following its length.

Opening her lips, Yaga tried to speak, but her hooves moved backwards as unease coursed through her blood. “I…” It started as a stutter, her golden eyes showing nervousness and a taste of fear. Being faced with anger when she was just trying to eat was making Yaga stumbled, her legs trying to buckle in the snow as she sped backwards. Shaking her head, the mare stopped when she placed a decent amount of distance between them. “I am not trying to invade everything… I am just hungry and this was the closest place for me to go.” Her words wobbled, her mind racing as the foal in her womb decided to shift around then. She needed food, but at the same time she did not need the stress that was now right in her face.