The pale grey of the eye nearest the stallion flashed as she tilted her head toward him again, not bothering to look him fully in the face. ”I was born quite far from here,” Valka answered. She thought briefly of her forest home, oblivious to the possibility that he was asking where she lived now. ”It was quite cold there as well,” continued the mare, reminiscing. Some fierce variety of joy made its way into her voice. ”Cold enough to freeze a foal to death in seconds. Not as cold as here, though.” Thoughtful now, the mare tilted her head and eyed the mountains rising steadily ahead of them. Those jagged peaks had become like the warm embrace of family despite her short time here. Her answer to the stallion’s next question came easily, almost cheerfully.
”Do you see the mountains? They mark our destination, more or less. The valley sheltered nearby is far more hospitable than the biting chill of the Steppe.” Valka hesitated for an instant as if to get her bearings, mismatched eyes swiveling from sky to soil to the horizon. She caught the faint scent of green life from further ahead, and here and there noticed old tracks where other unicorns had come and gone. Home. She let out a contented sigh.
When the mare turned toward her new companion, she was considerably relaxed. ”Only a bit farther,” Valka encouraged. She thought for a moment before adding, almost conversationally, ”Is it so different here from your own home?”