Her unexpected rise to the throne hadn’t gone over without a hitch.

Not that she had expected it to, or even hoped it would. The challenge only fueled her desire to succeed and win the hearts of her kingdom mates. Like her father before her, she would never presume to call them subjects; each cog was vital to the smooth running of the machine. But she was nothing if not an optimist, and the bumps in the proverbial road were to be viewed as stepping stones instead. She would not fail them, and she would prove herself worthy or die trying to do so.

The darkness of the kingdom had taken some getting used to. At first the shadows unnerved her. Until now she had been used to dewy meadows and her place in the stars. Her life had been centered around all things light and good. The shadows of the Valley at seemed to her like an impenetrable force, as if they were closing ranks to banish the new usurper. But gradually they had thinned and her eyes had become acclimated. Now she leaned into their surprising warmth, winding amongst the trees like an adoring cat through the legs of its master. Like the cat, she was a quiet strength not to be underestimated. The kingdom had blessed her with a powerful gift, one she didn’t quite understand but was eager to explore more. It thrummed through her veins like lightning, barely contained and begging for release. Beneath her soft grulla exterior was a hardened, snarling interior.

Sighing contentedly for the first time in months, she looked over her new home. It was dark and mysterious but it was home. Mist rose from the trees in beautiful spirals, and the lonely howl of a wolf echoed across the ridges. The grulla queen smiled and the moment lost herself to the surroundings. But the far off echo of a new male voice broke her from her reverie, and her eyes flew open in an instant. Within her chest the beast snarled, sniffing the air and eyeing the horizon with slit-pupil eyes. Swallowing hard she choked it down, though for a moment the grulla skin had begun to ripple and be replaced with tawny brown scales. Pushing her delicate face into the wind she called back, though she was already well on her way to the new comers, of which there were now two. As she neared them, a quick whiff and a glance at their minds gave away their home. Ice and snow; Tundra men. Smiling pleasantly she slowed to approach, dipping her pretty head at the gray and palomino. “Welcome to the Valley. Topsail.” she said by way of greeting, forcing her voice into both their minds and raising a brow over one brown eye. “What brings the Tundra here?” Idle banter, that, because she knew very well their motives. Word spread quickly here.

topsail

even an army of sheep should be feared, if they are being led by the lion

In their world, word traveled as quickly as the crow flew. Somehow, it shaped itself into the winds and the mist, flowing from ear to eager ear. Naturally, bits and pieces got lost in translation or left out all together. Inevitably, the words and gossip would be changed, until the final story was nothing like the original. From there, the bits and pieces would be stitched back into something that possibly resembled the original but with a unique twist or turn.

The Valley queen wondered just what they were saying about her.

After all, she was a former princess of the Gates. She was young, only nearing her sixth year. The angles of her face were soft and feminine. Everything about her was out of place and she was sure that had been the topic of many a discussion. Even now, standing here in front of the delegation from the Tundra, she could feel their apprehension. She could have read it on Brynmor’s mind, had she chosen to. Despite the ability to read minds she often refrained, finding it somewhat rude to break down those barriers without prior permission. But if she wanted to be heard then she had to delve in, and as such she ignored the shock and confusion on the two stallion’s faces. The grulla was quite used to the shock by now so she simply smiled, both with her satiny lips and honey-colored eyes. “Forgive me, gentlemen. This is the only voice I have.” she said, hopefully kindly. She sometimes grew weary of explanation, but it inevitably saved everyone from some degree of confusion. “In any case, welcome to the Valley, Brynmor and Patchouli of the Tundra.” There was no beating around the bush, and they soon arrived at the real reason they were here. Topsail nodded in understanding, looking from one stallion to the other. “You know my name, so that’s a start. I am young, but not so young that I am still fool-hearted. I plan to carry this kingdom to the best of my ability, and to find strong allies to stand at our sides. We have strong members, and to my knowledge the alliance we held with the Chamber still stands, though I‘m eager to expand beyond that.” she paused, raising a brow slightly. “And your king? What are his plans for the Tundra?” Too bold, perhaps, but she wasn’t one to beat around the bush either.

topsail

even an army of sheep should be feared, if they are being led by the lion

The Tundra was often quiet, flying low under the radar of more…noisy, kingdoms. It wasn’t, Topsail supposed, that they were weak. To her, the Tundra men had always been the stuff of legends- strong, hardy men living in the harshest of landscapes. But just as her rise to the throne hadn’t gone unnoticed, neither had the recent upswing of activity in the land of ice and snow. By all accounts their new king was taking his position seriously, gathering men and allies. Were they an unlikely ally for the Valley? Perhaps. But then again, a Gates princess was an unlikely queen of an “evil” kingdom. If nothing else Topsail enjoyed busting through the mold and leaving it smoldering behind her.

Rather than be upset by the two males obvious frustration, she offered them a knowing smile. “No matter, gentlemen. I often forget that my voice is pretty unconventional, as far as speaking goes.“ she said, sending her voice into both minds. It probably was uncomfortable to have someone else’s voice forced into your mind without your knowledge or consent. The palomino continued speaking and Topsail nodded along, absorbing his words and mulling them over. Brynmor confirmed his companions words, and Topsail took a moment to think. “Your king, Offspring, seems to have big plans for the Tundra. I’m glad to hear it.” and she genuinely was. She had often thought what a formidable ally they would be under the right reign. “We’re also allied with the Chamber, as well as the Gates, though I’m sad to say the Gates is withering on the proverbial vine at the moment.” That particular thought saddened her, and she could only speculate that wherever her father was, he too was devastated by the news. “The Valley is very interested in an alliance. I’d like to speak to your king about something else too, something swirling in the back of my mind. Care to lead the way boys?” Without waiting for their answer she headed north, assuming the men would follow behind and lead her when necessary. A thought was forming in the back of her mind, and it was of utmost importance that it come to fruition sooner rather than later.

topsail

even an army of sheep should be feared, if they are being led by the lion