Mazikeen. Solzeren couldn't tell if it was familiar or if she was imagining things. Most likely she was just expecting to feel the tug of memory, as though to reciprocate the other mare's recognition. She was no stranger to the modest fame of her grandsire, or the relative infamy of her sire, but Fell had come to mainland with her and she knew that the memories of a population were short. Could Mazikeen know one of her siblings personally, to spot the resemblance with any measure of confidence? Perhaps she knew her mother, Kohelet, for whom Solzeren had returned, dragging her errant father behind her (though where he was now, she couldn't be sure).
Solzeren raised her eyebrows slightly at Mazikeen's question of her roots. ‘Yes, actually,’ she said, realizing with pleasant surprise that the prickle of familiarity between them — one-sided or otherwise — was not unfounded. ‘My grandsire was Solomon of the Cove. My father is Fell.’ Solzeren tried to hold her excitement and her questions in check as she began to realize just how lucky she may have gotten to run into Mazikeen here. She had been hoping for an anchor point to begin mapping out the islands as she searched, and here was Mazikeen, potentially a map herself.
‘Do you… do you know my family?’ she asked, deciding that just one question at a time was best. She would get clearer answers this way, and any disappointment she might encounter could be received in small doses.