To say the mare was feeling homesick seemed to be an understatement, what was worse is that she felt like a foreigner in a strange land, if it wasn't the sheer fact she was a horse in a place where predators dominated it was her accent. What was worse than the unusual attention was the fact she couldn't even return home, her home was in the old world, long before the Agrelos merge; and what she wouldn't give to run through the green rolling hills, the lush forests and tall mountains of home. One mare in her old herd had taught her a word in Welsh once, Hireath, which cannot be fully translated but which roughly means a longing for a home you cannot return too and it felt too apt to her situation.
The one thing that quelled her sadness was simply ignoring it, seemed simple but it was the only thing that seemed to work, good ol' distraction. Maybe if she kept herself focused here she would be able to properly make another home here. It would never be the heather covered moors of Fermanagh, or the small mountains and green hills of Donegal, but it was good enough. One thing she could never give up though, save the tartan tied around her ankle, was the berries and fruit she missed, and of course her native tongue.
It was in the process of carrying one basket of Killarney strawberries and one of bird cherries, tied so each landed of opposite sides of her hips as she returned to camp, that she found herself startled by a squirrel that landed on her back, one with particularly sharp claws. The friesian let out a screaming whinny before she started to buck wildly, spraying the spiky fruit and small berries everywhere until the rodent dropped from her. She stomped the ground letting out a few choice words in her mother tongue. "Níor chóir bastaird dúr léim diabhal ar dhaoine eile, leathcheann.*" An embarrassing display in a land full of elementals and elite fighters, she had been used to running instead of fighting when threatened and it showed. "Freaky wee fecker." The antlered mare would grumble under her breath as she focused on picking back up her collected berries, or at least the ones that hadn't been trampled under her hooves at least, as she thanked the stars she wasn't in the middle of the camp for everyone to see.
//*Stupid bastard shouldn't damn jump on others, moron
Ahhh I'm so bad a starters sorry! Back from Scotland tomorrow so should be able to post better then!!
(Also my Irish is shabby, I'm still learning and I'm not fluent so if there are any mistakes pls forgive me)
she rules her life like a fine skylark —— tags.