Till it reaches my outer me; Nash, Ama!

[Amarine]

Tornados from a butterfly's wing

"Does your mam know you're out?" 

The black coated yearling looked like she could have been chipped directly out of the night sky, was nearly invisible in the half-moon light. She'd followed the rose garden girl half a mile through the grassy headland, wondering exactly what Fechín was up to so late. It was a rhetorical question, she realized. Of course Eurwen wouldn't know her more mischeivous daughter was wandering the moors when she should be sleeping. 

She waited for the inevitable guilty-but-not-that-guilty look to cross her friend's face before letting a wicked smile paint her own. They were friends for a reason, after all. "Where are you off to, anyway? Brienna is going to throw a fit if she finds out we've been exploring without her." Not to mention Neverwhere. 

It had been established early on that the brisk mare was not Ama's mother. Nor was Eurwen, or Lilliana. Ama didn't really have a mother, not like Fechín and Brianna did, or Nash and Yan. Yet each of the three mares had participated in her upbringing. In some ways that made her feel lucky. In others, not so much. Such as when she got in trouble. Funny enough, trouble seemed much easier to find with the ravenous Fechín by her side. 

...Amarine

@[Fechin] @[Nashua]