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Valka murmured something beside her, graceful words on charcoal lips that melted together in the drifting breeze that toyed with manes and tails, tracing the elegant bones of faces and hips, ribs and legs. The white mare did not hear whatever she whispered, and did not try to hear, mind drifting as she waited, knowing that someone would come sooner rather than later. It was strange, how suddenly the glacial mare lost herself upon arrival on the beautiful borders. Snö's lids closed, sliding shut over frosted azure eyes, lashes stark against the paleness of her face, letting the fingers of her mind extend to brush over all the memories she kept.
Firstly, she let herself comb over memories of Psyche and Mauja. Where was her mother? Snö cared little for the dark empress, if at all, and all her woe-be-gone ways. It was so hard to dredge up respect for the leader, when Psyche had made no efforts to make up for leaving her- just for everyone else. Yet mostly, she was jealous. Envious that all the others of this herd had only experienced her there, not gone without trace. Resentful... of raising herself.
Snö shook herself, mentally so, furious at the thought she might be drawn to the idea of having parents. She would be so much weaker, relying on a mother and father... Mauja, at least... what did she think of Mauja? Truthfully, she did not know. The varnish cared for her father, and still she struggled to come to terms, even now, that he had needed another foal, instead of just her. Or maybe she over-reacted, in her bitter jealous ways, to another have affection from her parent. Mauja should be staying with her, Snö thought so arrogantly, as if she could control that. But somewhere within her vindictive, often petty chestnut body, deep within her frozen heart, she knew she had no control over her father's actions and choices, as much as she may wish to.
Pulled from the surface of her thoughts with an ungraceful yank, Snö lifts her own silver head, Valka's excitement going through one ear and out the other. Why? She spies her father, Mauja, the white and gray sentinel who comes closer. There is not a single quiver to move from him as he brushes his muzzle against her, no, her stiffened body relaxes and eases, and she proffers him a half-smile, remembering the father figure she adored and admired without thought just a year ago, before she became a yearling. "Dad, this is Valka. Valka, this is Mauja, the Frostheart." Snö hadn't meant to say 'dad'. Not at all. Yet the words had been shaped and came from her mouth, and the white mare had to wonder why exactly, when she had felt no need to name him as her father at the meeting or when she had saw Daltoff. "I found Valka in the forest, alone. She shares our views as well. She's a good mare- she could be a good asset to the herd, if you want her." Snö stressed the word 'our' a touch more than necessary, confident he would realize the subtle nudge that Valka was racist. Mauja was not stupid.
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