’..This is the one place….where they just might.’ The mare’s sarcasm is not completely lost on Druna. Garmr’s continued presence in her life has taught her to read more into the dry humor than any number of years with her mother. Amusement glints in her pale gaze as a soft chuckle rumbles from her lungs. The fact that the trinket did not immediately shy away from Druna’s approach is cause enough to allow the smile upon her ashen lips to widen. Pale silver-blue eyes blink back against the brightness of the autumn sunshine as the lavender splashed mare joins the bloodmarked Arabian among the gently swaying saltgrasses. There is no facade of friendship on the mare’s suspicious features. If anything, the proud raise of her chin draws a cocky smirk to Druna’s lips as she halts before the mare.

It would be a lie if Druna dared to admit that she did not entirely enjoy the fact that most of the other trinkets regarded her with a semblance of hatred and suspicion. She was favored by the Boss. She was the one who warmed his bed at night and whispered quiet words into his ears. Although Garmr was far from an affectionate beast, she was familiar with his gentle touch and even his ire. And she would gladly take them both if only it kept her in his eyes and his attention wrapped around her hooves. This…. Trinket, was her only real competition and it was high past time she learn more about her.

’I suppose it all depends on one’s perspective….’The mare continues, drawing Druna’s curious gaze once more to the girl’s dusted features. Pale blue eyes meet the cold, amber ooids of her companion with languid indifference, ignoring the unspoken language of displeasure that she wore plainly enough. ’....which is it….prison or palace?’ her question is loaded with accusation and curiosity. Not a combination that Druna truly expected. Twin flutes twitched amid the silken threads of her alabaster mane as Druna drew her gaze away from the mare and to the scene that lay before them.

Illuminated by the afternoon sunlight, an ocean of sea oats and meadows of sawgrass line the muddy bog of the channels of oyster beds. Salty air whips around the pair, tugging the ends of their wind-tangled manes, whispering unspoken melodies through the stands of trees and clumps of Spanish Moss that hang like chandeliers from the great Live Oaks and centuries-old Bald Cypresses. Even without being near them, Druna can hear the shrieking of monkeys and the cries of seabirds as they flit back and forth amid the mangroves that line the far end of the Lagoon. Compared to Salem, the land here is filled with life that she had never dreamed of. Sure, there were times when she wished for the humidity that summer brought with it to be less…. Oppressive, but never, not once did she imagine wanting to return to Salem and to the familiar comfort of Evrain’s rule. The fact that what she had once known is now gone is all but unknown to her.

A contented sigh escapes her lips as an impish grin slides effortlessly into place along the dished contours of her facade. ”It is quite the lovely palace, don’t you think? Where else can you find stallions with such…. promise.” she coos, laughter bubbling deep in her concave breast.

DRUNA

lavender daughter of Evrain and Warduna