Grass had begun to die in the shadows of the Basin. Chill winds moaned down from the mountain slopes, ripping at plant and animal alike. These signs all told her Frostfall would soon arrive, but rather than shy from the cold Valka welcomed it. Difficult to believe she would soon pass her fourth year in the world… how much she had yet to see! She felt a child still, her limbs yet dainty and her skeleton yet soft. With careful steps, the mare’s long legs wound past the steaming surface of the Basin’s hot springs and she peered out into the night. Steam curled around the colors of her tail, wandered the ground past the water’s surface, but Valka paid it no mind. The steaming water disturbed her still. She much preferred the vast, cold surface of the lake. It was familiar – one of the few things in this land she could say she understood. As for her own kind… she still felt more than a little odd around them, an outsider. Whether it was by her own ineptitude or thanks to a coldness radiating from their hearts, Valka couldn’t be sure.

She wandered the land alone for now, her strange eyes watching evening fall. Grace inhabited the long, smooth roll of every stride but a childlike curiosity gleamed in her eyes. Perhaps she would meet Snö again; she thought of the cold young mare as a friend, though she was aware Snö likely had more important things to do than keep watch on a lonely filly – and Valka had no wish to be that filly, the one vying for attention endlessly. She wished to command attention with her very presence, to be a flame and not a moth… but it seemed she had a long way to go. The best she could hope for was to continue scouring this land, memorizing the name of every new unicorn she met, filing them away under some arcane order in her head. She was searching now, watching the stars spring to life in a dull sky, watching shadows stretch long and hungry over the permafrost.

Her search was rewarded by a pale shape standing lonely just ahead of her. Valka’s eyes traced the odd, notched pair of horns on the mare’s head with muted interest. She had never seen a unicorn with horns so near the shape of her own – though her own was certainly more grandiose, more sinister. Valka held her head high as she approached, and the pale eye on her right side almost glowed against the dusk, against the dark skin of her face. ”Stargazing?” she greeted the other mare casually, certain she would not prove herself a fool today. The mare tilted her long face up toward the sky and blinked. ”I’ve heard tales of those who could read fortunes in the sky… though I sometimes doubt the verity of those claims.” Valka turned her gaze to the stranger’s face again, awaiting a reaction. ”I have not seen you here before,” she stated plainly. ”My name is Valka. Yours?”

This new unicorn – Zdravilo, she soon introduced herself – exuded an uncommon sort of amity. In stark contrast to such overt friendliness, Valka slowly raised her head and gazed down at the other with cool eyes. It was… a welcome change, but how did one respond to these gestures? With grace, Valka supposed. She nodded.

”Scourge,” Valka repeated, one ear flicking thoughtfully back. What was a scourge? Did she really know so little? Suddenly, she wished she had asked Snö more – what was she really doing here? Taking up space? ”You must be gifted, then,” she added, trying to turn the words sweet though they tasted awfully bitter on her tongue. You are new, she thought, eyes burning across the stranger’s pale hide. Why are you farther than I am already? Evidently, she was doing something wrong… Perhaps the way to win hearts was with transparent cheer? Valka could manage almost anything, she thought, but probably not… that…

”I’m afraid I am simply a mare,” she said in answer to Zdravilo’s question. ”I dream of earning a high rank by helping our dear herdmates, but it seems I still have far to work…” Valka stared out into the distance as she spoke, thoughts moving quietly through her head. Perhaps she could never be this mare, but there was always the possibility of using the mare… Not hurting her, no, but learning what her secret was – if it was more than bland, openhearted kindness.

Valka was already balking at the thought.

Luckily, perhaps, Zdravilo changed the topic back to stars and Valka was distracted. Did she make wishes on flying stars? To be entirely honest, it seemed an odd custom; what could stars possibly care for her? She preferred not to be indebted to anything so strange and far-off, anyway, and with a curious tilt of her head, Valka let her features tighten into a sort of frown. ”No,” she responded. ”But perhaps I should start.” An odd thing, almost like laughter, trickled into her voice. Out of curiosity, she added, ”What kind of things do you wish for?”

Eagerly, Valka listened to this friendly new mare in silence. Only in the very back of Valka’s mind did the situation seem odd – a little strange, as if the other mare were scrutinizing her again and again, not in judgment but in wariness. Valka was keen to shake off the sensation, pushing it away as her own nerves. She had done nothing to arouse suspicion; she was being positively friendly, wasn’t she? This other mare must like her, then. They must become friends.

Valka’s head bobbed when Zdravilo spoke about medicine; the practice had never fascinated Valka much, but it did lead the dark mare to wondering briefly about other things – what did she find interesting? If she wanted to best serve the herd, it was likely time to choose her own profession… one at which she would excel. She didn’t know Zdravilo well enough to ask for help, though she knew she had little interest in joining the ranks of the scourge. So Valka let the comment pass on by, and their conversation at last turned back to the stars – which, Valka soon realized, Zdravilo seemed quite passionate about.

One may only see one or two shooting stars in a lifetime… Valka tilted her long face toward the heavens, mismatched eyes gleaming with reflected starlight. She rarely bothered to look up at the sky, she realized now; it seemed always there, a permanent fixture unlikely to change in any interesting way. She recalled a time in her childhood, though, when she would have coveted this information and used it dearly; Valka could imagine her small self peering upward, wishing desperately. The thought filled her with a small ache; was this mare so desperate for something as well that she threw her chances to faith? Slowly Valka’s gaze fell back to Zdravilo.

”Why would I want Mauja dead?” she asked with a frown. Of all things, that particular statement caught her attention, and a quiet surge of warning filled the young mare’s chest. Perhaps it was just an example, but still… a very strange one. Valka doubted Snö would allow such a statement to slip by without notice, and so she, too, took the opportunity to ask.