Sleepy Fox Hollow rhyolite

plucking anxiously at silverbirch's forelock, selenia cast another longing glance toward the mouth of the hollow. beautiful green fragrances drifted from that wide passage; her belly cramped with a hunger that had not stopped.

not since the wildberry fields had been stained in blood.

the trails here were thin and stony, keeping them just outside the sunspire. a wolf howled somewhere far.

selenia tried not to flinch, a shudder chasing itself through her flanks. "@Fancy," she whispered, hesitant and first, and then; "the deer say we should head south. they say it's hot there. very hot. and there are wolves, but — not so many."

she shifted. "they said there's others there. like deer and elk, but not. they're called antelope. and they're very fast. but if we can keep up, the doe i talked to, she said they'd let us stay."

they were horses, selenia knew. not deer. not bison. not elk. 

not antelope.

"it's more open there. more open than we'd like. but the ground is — she called it sand. it's soft. good for running. the wolves fall back faster. too much fur."

softly she preened fancy's mane, tugging thistles and knotted twigs until the strands were silky once more. "i've been feeling — oh, i don't know. odd. fluttery. i think i know, but —"

the thought filled her with hope and with dread at the same time.

The sorrel bowed her head, insisting that Selenia continue her ministrations. After what they had gone through, the mare’s closeness was welcome. She moved forward to begin rubbing her muzzle in small circles beneath the mare’s thick mane, where the skin was warm and damp. 

She flicked an ear back, listening. A puff of breath lifted a section of Selenia’s mane at the mention of following a deer’s advice. She was skeptical of the skittish creatures, and their advice caused her to hold her breath for a moment.

The desert. 

She exhaled softly as Selenia continued. It was something she truly believed- Selenia only ever spoke up with advice if she believed with her heart that it was the right thing to do. Fancy, pessimistic, found it difficult to dissuade her, but felt it was necessary nonetheless to make sure they both knew what they’d be getting themselves, as well as Silverbirch, into.

I been in deserts before, She said. Not much food, not much water…We’d always be on the move lookin’ for fodder, and watchin’ over our shoulders because wolves live in deserts too. Smaller ones, but wolves all the same. She said. 

She groaned as Selenia untangled her mane and pulled free the burrs that had been bothering her. Her next confession caused the mare to smile softly. Good. ‘Cause you’re starting to show, to the trained eye, She said, dipping her muzzle to gently bump the mare’s belly. So am I, She said with a whisk of her tail.

fancy had been there. of course she had. selenia was grateful for the addition of realistic information, her ears up and swung forward to listen.

fancy's last comment stole her breath. 

unable to speak, selenia peered at her own sides, then those of fancy; surely enough, there was a blooming curve to them both she simply hadn't noticed before. "oh, fancy!" she exclaimed, a bit overcome. 

"they'll be siblings then," the mare murmured, allowing herself a passing moment of imagination, where their herd grew by two and silverbirch stayed to help.

another pause followed. "is it worthwhile to reach the desert? we have water here. but big wolves killed — I suppose i'd take something smaller over what happened."

he followed the soft sounds of voices, cautious as any prey should be, and stopped when he heard the far-off howl of a wolf. maplesmoke waited for a moment, two, three; listening, attentive to the forest until he was certain there was no threat. with a huff, he moved again.

as he arrived upon the scene he pushed aside foliage with his chest, and paused again. there were distant equine shapes - subtly rounder than he remembered - and they both appeared in good spirits. little did maplesmoke know of the truth: of the struggles they had endured without him.

the stallion whickers in their direction and waits to be seen, accepted or driven away.

Eyes wide, the filly pressed close to her mother’s side as she whispered words to Fancy. In her memory, the steely squeals of Cedar played over and over again. The scent of horseblood lingered in her nostrils. She could have sworn she’d tasted blood on her own breath, after having fled the area. 

The mares spoke of another place- Silverbirch hoped they would find a place where they would never be hunted again. A place the wolves couldn’t follow them, a place where Cedar’s screams would fade away, and finally leave her alone.

A whicker caused her to startle. She lowered her head to peer beneath her mother’s belly, toward another horse. She half-squealed, until she realized that the bay was not, in fact, Cedar. Mom, She whispered, bumping her nose against her mother’s flank.

The bit of news did them both good. Spirits were heavy after losing a herd mate. She hated to think that Cedar had been a sacrifice- but she knew the way of the wild, and the mare’s chances of survival had dropped drastically when she had caught her ankle in a gopher hole. It stirred resentment within her, to acknowledge that she had kept Cedar around knowing she might one day save Fancy, Selenia and Silverbirch by being the weakest of the herd. She could only hope Equus might forgive her for it.

Some day, it would end up being her role. All horses did, eventually. But for Fancy, Silverbirch and Selenia, that day could wait.

We could try. She said, not yet willing to shun the idea altogether. She drew in a breath to hypothesize more, but it was cut short when a scent triggered a memory, followed by a whicker. She jerked her head up and gazed across the meadow toward the stallion who approached.

She breathed out a hot, heavy snort; dragonsbreath on the cooling air. Her ears flattened back and she drew away from Selenia’s side to paw at the ground, with great, graceful dashes of her hoof. 

Colt’s teeth! She snorted. And where, in Equus’ name, have you been? She screamed with a toss of her wild mane.

there was no time to even consider what a desert might mean for them. selenia only noted fancy's reluctance, and then silverbirch was whispering for her attention.

their lead mare postured. selenia squinted at the approaching figure and then brightened, whinnying gently under fancy's demand.

tail flicked her flanks; she kept herself between he and silverbirch, for now, but followed fancy with shining eyes, relief in every inch of her frame.

he had been gone too long.

his reception was mixed, and he did not take kindly to the look of fancy or her tone; stomping and huffing his displeasure.

there were wolves, first. there were stallions after that; warring with me, keeping me away. maplesmoke moved closer and around them, showing off his nipped and scored hide.

see? they wanted selenia, and the filly. and he had kept them away, but the wounds had also made him bait to more dangers. was that not obvious? but the look of fancy made him wonder.

where are the others?

Her withers shuddered as if bitten by flies; she swished her tail as if to slap them away. She had no other real way of appropriately expressing how she felt without doing something that might sour him and send him away. The urge to do just that was fresh and tempting- but the memory of Cedar’s anguished screams reminded her of their reality. 

They needed him. If not him, then some other stallion- and none had come to claim them in his absence.

She felt jilted when he mentioned only Selenia and Silverbirch; she had to wonder what other stallions Maplesmoke had come across, and if perchance some of them had been her own sons. Naturally, they wouldn’t be interested in stealing their mother back, but the buckskin and her daughter? Absolutely.

Next time you fight off stallions, She breathed, You do it in front of us. I don’t care how many of them line up, and draw you into stupid pissing- sorry Selenia- she lowered her voice. Pissing matches and brawls- you do not leave your herd alone for months! She said with an emphatic flattening of her ears. Her voice quieted a bit. Where do you think they went? Without a herd stallion? She asked rhetorically. It’s just us. We’re all that’s left. She felt weary, just admitting it. She paused. There may be two more next Spring. Her gaze lifted. He might be more inclined to stay now, that his lineage had been secured.

A stallion?

Silverbirch’s curiosity grew when she realized that this horse was different from them. She remained at her mother’s side, but peered now out past her mother’s chest so that she could see him. The wild tangles of his mane were long; his scarred neck was proud and thick, his voice was low. She snorted softly and flicked an ear as the lead mare apologized to her mother, but continued to ogle the stranger while the sorrel ranted on and on.

”Momma,” She whispered, lifting her muzzle up toward her mother’s ear. ”Does he have the thing you told me about?” She said, lifting one of her own hind legs and then settling it back down onto the ground. She looked back toward him again- and from where she stood, she couldn’t really see anything special.

that he'd been gone on her behalf was rather flattering to selenia, though like fancy she would have rather had him here. maybe then poor cedar wouldn't have —

the filly stage whispered. selenia stared at her in bemused shock, then muttered back, "yes." now she switched her flanks again and bobbed her muzzle to the end of fancy's pronouncement.

"this is silverbirch," she introduced,  sidling away so that they could see one another. "and this is maplesmoke, dear. he was our band stallion before you were born. fancy and i might both have his foals in the spring now."

the dark velvet of her gaze asked the stallion if there was more to know.

fancy had her demands; she was right, to a point, but maplesmoke wasn't going to cede much.

i did not choose to leave. he snorts, stomps a foreleg as if he might cut through her tone, and as he begins to explain himself further - his tail whisking - he stops, because the filly has said something out of pocket that distracts him.

selenia introduces them. i remember. i was present at the birth — hello. a stare, and then he turns his attention back to fancy.

you had your hardship, i had mine. i return, and will do my part. unless you think it better to be without a stallion at all? he could go, and stay gone. if this was the thanks he was met with, if this was the welcome he had somehow earned.

if he was expected to keep them safe for no reciprocated respect, what would be the point in that?

Stallions all had ego and attitude- nothing Fancy didn’t expect, and certainly nothing she couldn’t tolerate in exchange for safety. Nevertheless, she knew better than to have high expectations for any of them- the tides turned often when rival stallions came looking for an opportunity. 

She would be indifferent if he lost his position- but perhaps less forgiving if he disappeared and came back again. For now, scolding him further might just drive him off- a risk she was not willing to take. 

She bobbed her head in an answer and whisked her tail so it slapped against her growing side. He should stay.

She wished for a filly. 

She moved off to graze hungrily. Finally, she could eat without constantly having to be on guard.

last for me! <3

her ears pinned. he didn't seem happy at all to see them, but perhaps fancy had caught him off-guard.

when the lead mare moved, selenia gestured silverbirch. her eyes promised questions would be answered, out of earshot.

if that happened again.

this grass was sweet and good; to put her head down and graze a long time was a relief, one that tempered her annoyance.