Seconds grew into minutes which then seemed to expand into hours. At least that’s how it felt for the impatient Witche. She lashed her ivory tail against her sides in frustration. She hated waiting for things. Was anyone going to answer her call? Were they ignoring her on purpose? Did they not realize her plan would benefit them as well? Just as she was about to give up and head for home she saw two figures in the distance approaching her.

One was a very tall and somewhat intimidating mare. The other, although shorter with a lithe frame, carried herself with a quiet sense of authority. For a moment Witche wondered if the pair would perform some kind of ‘good cop bad cop’ routine. It is the daft mare that speaks first with her ears slightly pinned against her long dark mane. There is a frosty tone to her voice. It was naive to think she would receive a warm welcome based on her gender alone. She turns her mocha hued eye to the other Peak sister who, for now at least, seemed content to sit back and watch this situation play out.

Witche took a deep breath and pushed any fear of nervousness she felt deep down. They wouldn’t respect her if she came across as scared or weak. Looking up she made eye contact with the mare that had spoken. “Hello, my name is Witche,” she introduced herself with a nod and smile to the pair, “I claimed the northern ruins not far from here.” She got the impression that they didn’t have the patience to sit through her entire backstory so she tried to keep things short and sweat.

“Currently I live alone and I have come to ask for an alliance. It would be comforting to know that help wasn’t too far away should I need it. And in return I will send you the next filly I have when they become one year old to join your ranks.”

She had no reservations about finding a stallion to dance with her this autumn. She’s certain that a pretty little thing like her will have her pick of the finest men around. Her only problem would be if fate decided to play silly games and curse her with a useless son.