Never had the girl thought that she, the little insignificant dove that she was, could create the feelings showed by the two mares before her. They seemed genuinely upset and angered by what she told them. Could it be that she had been wronged this time? Was it not her own fault? Did the blame lay with the hornless unicorn?

A bit confused Alina searched the mares’ features for signs that they were mocking her, but she found none. Maybe if they heard the whole story they would understand that she had herself to blame?

”It was a buttermilk stallion. Ricochet was his name and he had a black and white dog with him. But you see I think I offended him, so really this is my own fault. I was stupid enough to try and touch him though I thought he needed a bit of kindness in his life. Although he may have overreacted, I can’t really blame him for my thoughtless action.” Even as she said it, it sounded a bit wrong. On an intellectual level she knew that she had hardly deserved to be burned and beaten senseless, but still she could not shake the thought that she could have acted differently. Maybe it was the backside of her philosophy? Not wanting to make herself a victim maybe she put too much blame on herself?

Alina looked down at her small hooves. She felt a bit uneasy with the confusion the two mares had caused in her. Though as she thought of their kind words and their faces, so angered on her behalf, she felt warm. They cared about her. Even Maeve, a complete stranger, cared! It brought her joy.

Raising her head again she faced them both, studied the way Godiva held her mane from touching the water and let her eyes glide over Maeve’s tense body. More and more she realized that the blame did lay with Ricochet and not with her. She looked at Godiva again and back to Maeve. She wished she had their strength and assertiveness. They needed not fear when they traveled the lands, but she, Alina, she was weak; too weak to even be able to defend herself against a horse lacking both horn and wings.

A sigh left her, but she smiled then - not wanting to fuss over things she couldn’t change. I am happy with what I got. she thought, careful not to touch the part of her mind that said: “And what do you got?”

Turning to the winged mare she said: ”I surely do not hope this will lead to war, Godiva. I wouldn’t want the whole herd to suffer solely because I was unlucky.” She had seen only one war in her days, she had traveled through a land far east of Helovia and there she had encountered a battlefield. The battle had been in its last stages and the large meadow had been littered with dead bodies; it was one of the worst things she had seen. But not as bad as that day her father was cut open by her mother. That memory made her shiver.

ooc; so so sorry for the wait. Christmas and other crazy stuff you know! :D

Märk hur vår skugga, märk, Movitz mon frere
Inom ett mörker sig slutar
Hur guld och purpur i skoveln, den där byts till grus och klutar
Vinkar Charon från sin brusande älv
och tre gånger sen dödgrävaren själv
Mer du din druva ej kryster därföre, Movitz, kom hjälp mig och välv
Gravsten över vår syster!