We're all drawn toward what's beautiful & broken
Maus trudged sullenly through the forest. Snow still blanketed much of the land, but the thick, entwined branches of the trees offered some shelter from the weather. Winter was the grulla mares least favorite season. Yet, even though she loathed the cold, it's icy chill was the last thing on her mind. What had happened to Beqanna? Her memory was as foggy as the land was the day she woke up on top of The Mountain. She could remember choosing to live in The Jungle when she met Lexa and Topsail. She could remember meeting Lokii, that tricky bastard of a stallion, but should could not, for the life of her, remember how she ended up there. That day still rested uneasy in the mousey mares mind. It wasn't just her, either, every horse in Beqanna succumbed to the same strange phenomenon is seemed. It was like the mysterious forces of this place had grown angry. Why? Maus had no idea. She was still fairly new here and hadn't yet managed to wrap her mind around the strangeness.
A light nip on her stifle startles the grulla minx. It causes her to jump slightly, shoving her violently out of her thoughts and back into the cold harsh reality of the Forest. Turning her head to the left, Maus allows her deep amber eyes to settle on the small form that traveled beside her. "Soon, Pitch." she croons softly. The silver grulla colt offers a grunt of protest before softly nipping his mother again. "Hush now, child. We will stop soon enough." she says with a slightly firmer tone, her russian accent thick as she gently scolds her son. Obediently the colt settles, tucking himself closer to his mothers side as they both trudge through the snow.
It wasn't long after that when the two horses come to a dense cluster trees. Their branches spread out, tangled with each other to a create what resembled a broken umbrella. The ground here was mostly free of snow and the tree trunks provided some protection from the icy wind that tore across the land. Maus reached around her shoulder to nudge the colt who stood beside her. "Drink, Child. We will rest here." She says to him, watching as he eagerly steps forward to suckle. We must find a new home, Pitch." Maus was speaking more absentmindedly than to her son. "Or I fear the worst." she adds as she turns continues to watch her baby. A twinge of fear wrapping itself up in her russian accent.
Winter is an abysmal time for Lagertha; the Jungle woman is happiest when tightly wrapped in a littel bubble of wet, heavy heat. She imagines they’ll have to get used to another climate now, and the thought makes her grit her teeth in annoyance. Another notch to add to the marks against her enemies
Lagertha wanders back from Ischia, childless for the first time in what seems like forever; a peculiar feeling of both freedom (it is most difficult to one’s self alive in Hell, let alone a helpless, occasionally winged foal) and emptiness (the girl is the only one who knows what they went through - she can say which beast made which scar across her mother’s back, how Lagertha bled in sacrifice) which sends the silver-scarred mare into an odd state of contemplation. She will return for Wessex soon, but there is too much work to be done, and if the former Queen cannot rest, then her daughter, at least, should.
A familiar tang (ever so faint, it makes her stop short to determine if she’s imagining it) cuts cleanly through her reveries, causing Lagertha to pause momentarily, and then switch directions. It leads her to a small copse, where a grulla mare and colt take shelter from the weather. The warrior woman stays a ways away from the new mother, knowing full well that even without her tattoos and usual muscle mass, she could be deemed a threat (and in any other case, that might be the truth). But if the mouse-gray mare is a new sister, she should be given the option of returning to the group again. She calls out to the pair, disregarding niceties. “You smell faintly of the Jungle. Are you a Sister?”
We're all drawn toward what's beautiful & broken
Old man winters icy fingers raked against the mares body as a frigid gust of wind tears through the trees. She hoped and prayed spring would come soon, not only because she loathed this season with a burning passion; but mostly due to the silver grulla colt who called her Momma. At the thought of her son, Maus bends her neck to peer out of a mess of black dreads, observing the babe. Pitch was still far to young to be trusted to withstand Mother Natures brutalities on his own. A frown drags the corners of her mouth downward as she watches a shiver race through his tiny body. The grulla minx fears that if winter doesn't break soon, her beloved baby would freeze to death. The thought causes her ears to sink downwards a little. If the child died Maus would not only be devastated, she would be absolutely furious. If it hadn't been for that no good low life, Lokii, she wouldn't be in this situation. Everyone knows that when breeding, one should do so in the BEGINNING of breeding season and not the end. That way when the foals are born that have longer to strengthen themselves for when this god awful season rears its ugly white head!
Agitated now by the thoughts of the trickster stallion, Maus absentmindedly reaches forward to pull the child closer to her, tucking him up next to her warm barrel in effort to hold off the chills. Even though the mouse colored mare hated Lokii, and I mean really hated him, the product of her rape was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. In a world where everything didn't make sense, Maus found solace in the small silver grulla child and she would do whatever it took to protect him.
-Snap- the dull sound of a snow covered tree branch breaking catches Maus' attention. Startled by the approach of someone, she allows her head to whip around in the direction the sound had come from. Standing a respectful distance away was a steel gray mare. Maus allows her ears to dip a little deep into her messy black dreads, a simple warning to not get to close. Maus wasn't taking any chances, she knew if a struggle would occur Pitch would be in grave danger. The steeled mare speaks and respectfully Maus turns to face her while simultaneously putting herself between the mare and her baby. As the new comers words end, the grulla mare can't help but allow her ears to lift a little. Yes, Lexa had recruited me right before...well, before the Jungle disappeared." she says her russian accent entwined in a swirling column of steamy breath. "And you?" She adds, her left ear tipping backwards towards Pitch as he cautiously peers around his mothers hind leg.
The warrior watches the mother maneuver herself in front of the colt and resists the urge to roll her eyes. Had Lagertha wanted to steal the child, or otherwise harm either them, she would have by now. It takes a special sort of women - her mind clouded by grief or anger, perhaps - to commit that sort of crime on a fellow female. Lagertha may be abrasive and uncouth, but she does not intentionally harm children. Or their nursing dams.
Lagertha casually replies, “I was Queen before Lexa.” A pause. “We don’t abandon our own. If Lexa thought you would make a good addition, then you should know that a group of us are petitioning for a home. They’re on the Mountain now. If you’d like, you can wait with me for their return.” Her gaze drifts to the peak, both disappointed and relieved that she was not up there with them. She is too angry still, at the perpetrators of the Raid. It might have been Yael’s magic that catapulted her into the Upside Down world, but it never would have happened if some little fucker hadn’t lied to the rest of Beqanna’s rulers. Because now her Jungle is gone. And she has been to Hell and back. And nothing will ever be the same. But this stranger need know nothing of that.
Her gaze returns to the the pair, softening a little. “That is, if you’re still interested.” She takes a small step forward. “I’m Lagertha. What are your names?”
We're all drawn toward what's beautiful & broken
While Maus was not normally an overly protective Mother, here in Beqanna it seemed to be a very appropriate response. The inhabitants of this strange land were very different compared to the horses where she came from. Until she stumbled upon Beqanna, magic and special traits and abilities only lived in the stories you told children; they were make believe. That was not at all the case in this place. It didn't take the grulla minx long to figure out that in fact, these fairy tale anomalies were the norm here. To the locals here in Beqanna, meeting a horse with wings or horns or even ones obscurely colored was nothing to gawk at. It seemed to Maus that almost everyone you talked to had some special ability or genetic abnormality that set them apart from what she considered normal; but now, here in Beqanna those who have no traits or abilities are considered the oddballs. Thinking of this causes Maus' mind to pull forth the memories of Lokii. The simply thought of him was enough to make her blood boil. Perhaps he was the reason she was so untrusting of the magic that Beqanna had to offer.
Thankfully Maus doesn't have much time to ponder the bastard stallion and turns her attention back to the steel gray mare in front of her. She is speaking and the grulla minx allows her black rimmed harks to spin towards her as she listens. She smiles as the other mare offers her a home with others from the Jungle. She then goes on to tell her that they are atop the mountain petitioning for a land. Maus allows her deep amber eyes to follow the steeled minx's gaze. For the first time since waking up there, the grulla mare studies the mountain, observing its snowy peaks and once again she is struck with the burning desire to know why and how everything happened.
"Maus." she answers, slowly pull her gaze away from the mountain. "My name is Maus and this is my son, Pitch." she adds, swinging her haunches slightly to the right to reveal the silver grulla colt. His head lifts suddenly, his small black rimmed ears pricking towards the steel gray minx curiously. "H...hello." he says shyly, his tiny voice already hinting at the same accent as his mother.
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