They had wandered for quite some time, weaving between both dune and bramble, before finally settling along the shoreline that overlooked the vast ocean beyond their home. To them, The Dragon’s Throat was exactly what they’d been needing… exactly what they’d been looking for. To them, it represented family, stability, and safety. Yet, as always, memories of the invasion and how they’d come to accept their role in the Throat hung heavy over two bleeding hearts.

It had been quite some time now since Essetia had been freed from captivity in the Basin, but the name still left a bitter taste on her tongue. Even as she mulled over the experience in the comfort of the South, ugly thoughts of winter and the mounting snow felt all too consuming. She’d tried to escape… and failed. She’d tried to forgive… and couldn’t. Perhaps that’s why even the thought of Ulrik –the only man willing to allow her a reprieve from her prison— made her lips curl. It was with such distaste that she regarded memories of the past and it was with such distaste that she was motivated to move forward.

She needed to forget.

“Someone follows,” Romul warned as they paused at the mouth of the shoreline. The mare didn’t turn to welcome their visitor but instead continued along the beach while Romul lingered behind. If they had something they needed to say, then they were invited to do so… at her convenience. The wolf however thought differently of the vibrant knight trailing in their wake and offered him a wolfish scowl that pressed his black lips into a grim, serious line. “Pretty boy,” he seethed through their mental bond.

Essetia chuckled at his frustrations, but continued her descent across the sands. However, she stopped when at last the man announced himself, a confident hello. The spy nearly turned to inspect her pursuer, but again refused him the return. “And what if you were? Would it stop you from approaching?” she called from ahead. There was a gentle jest in the way she spoke to him and she shuffled toward the sea to allow him a spot alongside her shoulder, even if her pace remained uninterrupted. Her neck was bent forward and her eyes were cast before them unmoving, but Essetia was not a malevolent creature, even if she was amused by her joking exchanges. Surely the stallion would understand that if he were given a moment or two of her time… and that was exactly what he was about to get, like it not.


Essetia & Romul