White wings soared across the distant sky: a sudden flash of pale, like sunlight on the ice. Valka’s ears pricked forward for an instant. The owl banked away, its silent flight taking it far from the pair of unicorns at the edge of the Basin, and Valka breathed out. Nothing else stirred in the arctic air – nothing aside from the soft noise of Snö’s breath – and the wolf’s. Again, Valka cocked a grey eye at the ghostly shape of the beast. Something in her wanted to scream run! but she begged her heart still. It is a friend, she thought, glancing at Snö. A friend… Valka dreamed enough of wild things to think they kept few friends.

For some time, Valka existed as a stain: black on the snow, strange in this place of close-kept secrets and a high-up winter sky. She watched sunlight shift through the blue, watched the dark wings of some other bird float silently across her vision. Valka chased the bird’s journey with her eyes. Where was it going? What did it see from the sky? Psyche? She wondered suddenly, and her head jerked when the noise of hooves reached her. Slow hooves, she thought, ears twisting fervently. Valka searched the path ahead for a moment before focusing on the shape now approaching: white, like the land behind him. White, like snow, and black – like rot. As he approached something like disdain rippled across the ice king’s face – as if he saw something unpleasant. Valka’s ears twitched in agitation; was he not looking at his daughter now? The expression was gone in an instant – perhaps her imagination worked too hard. Valka nodded to herself. I am over-anxious, she thought. Her hooves were suddenly heavy when she stepped forward, so eager to greet the stallion that she forgot all about Psyche, and mothers, and everything but the way sunlight caught on his horn and in his eyes and the way he stood – all pride and quiet grace, and tall enough to look her in the eye.

Valka stepped back just as quickly as she had stepped forward – hooves scuffing on each other, kicking at the raw earth. The stallion paused only briefly to brush his muzzle against Snö’s – so familiar! So they must be family, or friends perhaps? Valka darted a glance at Snö and then the answer came: Mauja, the Frostheart. “Dad,” Snö called him. Valka wondered if her own father was so majestic; if he walked the forests of her old home with his head so high, his eyes so fathomless and wise. He must! She flicked her tail, her haunches shimmying as pent up energy roared in her veins. ”I am honored,” Valka spat eagerly, and the word tumbled and tangled in her mouth. Embarrassed, she glanced away and then at Mauja again – did he think her unfit? He was older than his daughter, and he looked so much less kind. Frostheart, thought Valka. She imagined his heart sitting black and cold within the smooth curve of his ribs – black like those spots on his coat, frostbitten to nothing more than a hard lump. Her imagination was running away again; Valka shook her head.

”I would be proud to walk among you,” babbled Valka after Snö’s recommendation. Her heart soared with the pale mare’s kind words. ”Here, at the top of the world…” She turned to look out over the Valley again, worries buzzing in her head. Should she do something to impress him? Did he think her clumsy? Silly? Arrogant? She could not drop her head now, with adrenaline like fire in her limbs. She wanted to run! She wanted to climb to the razor backs of the mountains and scream that she was home, home, celebrating early. Valka nodded. ”All my life I have searched for a true home. I will not disappoint you, if you allow me to stay. I will be brave and strong as you are.” As you are? she clenched her jaw after that, tail just twitching in nervous agitation. Unless that is presumptuous, she wanted to say – perhaps she was too forward? Too fawning? Valka had no desire to be like a sycophant, slavering over the every word from these unicorns’ mouths – but how beautiful their words were! How magnificent their voices! Their mannerisms! They were kings and queens and knew it; she – she would become like them. She was like them! She stood upright and forced her gaze onto Mauja, but was unable to keep from glancing at Snö – her friend here, if ever Valka had one. Please approve. Her body all but trembled. Tell me I am home. She could all but imagine that word spilling form their lips - welcome home! only in a grave, graceful voice as she imagined the Frostheart to have.