Though she knows that winter has the rest of Beqanna tightly in its grip, the Jungle remains warm and humid – and isolated biome. Though she has always preferred heat to cold, the black and white mare has found herself missing the turning of the seasons. She has never intended to stay here for long, just until her children were grown. They are growing every day, foraging for their own sustenance and no longer replying on their mother for everything. It is bittersweet, watching them grow, but Dorne is proud.

Though she has seen the tattoo on her daughter’s chest, the appaloosa mare has not yet had the heart to speak to Ephrelle about it. Today, she has decided, it is time. Raising her head, she beckons both of her children with a strongly-voiced call. When they are beside her – both tall, strapping young things – she nuzzles them affectionately, nibbling at Roe’s red mane and tugging gently on Ellie’s black hair.

“As you both know, I came to the Jungle only to raise you in safety. This is not my home, though I can see that you – Ellie – have chosen it to be yours.” She gestures to the vine and blossom on her daughter’s black breast, but there is no judgment in her voice, only affection. “You are both old enough to decide what you want to do with your own lives.” Perhaps not-quite-yearlings are a little young, but Dorne believes (like the rest of her family) that their bloodline is stronger than the rest, and that they are capable of more than most other horses.

“I’ll be leaving the Jungle today. I’m not sure where I’ll go – probably to explore the lands outside of Beqanna.” The decision has been a long time coming, and while she will miss her children, she will always return to them. “I love you both very much, and I am proud of the young man” (she looks to Yronwood) “and young woman that you’ve become.”

Dorne

You are iron. And you are strong