(sorry this took so long, I wrote a whole reply and it somehow got deleted. This one might be a bit short.)
Fair enough. The camaraderie between women was limitless but like anything else, they came with their challenges. Romi was the last person who could deny that. The idea intrigued her, though. As far as she had learned in her short life, mares weren't rulers. She didn't know why but they simply weren't. To capture a kingdom and rule it alone required a great deal of moxie and independence, something Romi wasn't entirely sure she had. After all, the most rebellious she had ever been at home (besides falling in love with the king's daughter) was wandering a few yards too far from her mother as a filly. What would her parents think now that she was considering asking to be allowed into a bonafide girl gang?
Of course, there were stallions. It makes enough sense that there would be. While Romi would be happy living an entirely female existence, twas not the position of most mares in the world. She was, as far as anyone had ever told her, a mutant, a witch, a deviant. It didn't bother her all that much but it certainly seemed to irk those around her. For those reasons, she didn't intend to be shouting it from the rooftops in this new land any time soon. It would come out in due time. Or maybe it wouldn't.
She wondered what the Amazonian mares were like. All kind and welcoming like Malka had proved herself to be? The name lent itself to a pack of warriors, and their status as a ruling class in the jungle must be difficult to maintain. No doubt they were strong willed and clever.
"I don't suppose you're looking for new residents," she began thinking out loud. "As I'm sure you can tell, I don't exactly have anywhere to sleep tonight." Night was hours away, but she was still starkly aware of her predicament. While they had been talking the sun had risen further and dawn had broken, a warm light now reaching the tops of the trees and flooding the field. Sure, she had time to explore her options and find somewhere to go. But she was starting to feel like this was where she wanted to be--if they'd have her, of course.
Romantic Pretense
Where does the good go?