It is the sound of the boy’s anxiety-filled cry that first draws the rose-colored mare from her distant thoughts. Another day, and more countless questions about her own heart’s affliction when it came to Khyber. Yet another daughter was born, another daughter without the doting likes of the family that Ashteroth had found.

Khar’pern grew up with mares of the jungle. Amazons, as they preferred to call themselves. Stallions were not kept around, and while coupling was often encouraged to provide the mares with new daughters to train and raise, it was a private meeting of like minds and nothing more. So why is it that her heart clenched at the sight of her daughters? Why is it that she hoped to find Khyber appearing from the mist of snow and fog with that cocky smile on his face and confident jaunt to his walk. Of all the stallions on all the islands, why did it have to be Khyber that left her heart racing with the urge to draw him close and bury her teeth into his flesh at the same time?

The pitiful cry is a welcome distraction from these lines of thought, and Khar’pern eagerly shifts her focus to locating the child and returning him to the fold, and no doubt an equally anxious mother. Despite the deep drifts of snow that were only just beginning to soften, the exotic little mare moves with the skill and experience of a true mare of the mountains. Her sure-footedness and keen eyesight allowed the Minister to easily pick out the boy’s wandering trail and follow it with almost bored steps. That is, until the all too familiar scent of the rancid lagoon drifts across her path.

Dark brows narrow as paper-thin nostrils flare. Silvery ooids focus on the wide prints that now muddy her path and overlap the smaller hoofprints left behind by the child. A tiger stalking its prey in the snow. This… intrusion is no different.

Renewed purpose quickens her step, all thoughts of her conflicted emotions forgotten and replaced instead with outrage. How dare they. As if she and Cherish had not already proven their capabilities to defend the peak and its residents countless times in these past few months. How dare they try to sneak past their borders once again.

Muscles tense beneath her thick, dappled coat as the mare closes the distance between herself and the duo. Close enough to hear the familiar gravelled voice that belongs to none other than Cullen himself.

’..come closer for warmth..’ The voice meant to entice only makes her muzzle wrinkle in disgust. Raven-tipped ears lace tightly against her skullcap as Khar’pern announces her presence with a stiff-legged approach. ”A little far from the Lagoon aren’t you Cullen?” she snarls, her obsidian whipcord lashing audibly against her heels in agitation. ”Miss being our captive that much that you risk my wrath after Garmr went through all that trouble to ensure your freedom.”

Khar'pern

The jungle is dark but full of diamonds;