Narwa Carnimírië has always considered herself to be a sociable enough mare, though to an extent there is no escaping such a fate, given her origin and upbringing. Their home herd, The Flock, is no small thing; with dozens upon dozens of warrior mares who regard each other as kin. Then there are their men, and the artisans and dancers and tradesfolk that provide them with garb and gear and all matter of tools and trinkets.
And that is to say nothing of the sprawling web that is Narwa's own blood family. So then, a certain level of frivolity, of tolerance and an appreciation for companionship is a matter of survival. Particularly in her case and that of her sisters and brothers, with them numbering in at nearly a hundred siblings. Their parents had been blessed or cursed (depending on who was telling of the unbelievable event) by the spirits with a brood beyond imagining. Even in their adulthood it was a story often passed around, how the Flock midwives had continued to find baskets doubled and quadrupled in number, each time they went to settle a new one amidst its fellows. Such a thing would be brushed off as nonsense without evidence, but so many foals (now adults) were beyond difficult to overlook. One had to believe the story no matter how far-fetched it seemed to one who had not experienced the spirits particular brand of mischievous affection.
The siblings had grown up in small groups, often in clusters numbering between two and six, each of them with a different surrogate mother amidst the herd. Narwa, for her good fortune, had been raised by her aunt, her mother's sister, Teleri Lindāi. She and the one she considered her twin, a sister named Greyes, as well as their tropically-hued sister Siomha, the brightly-patterned Solaria, and the twins Haldir and Vanlanthiriel. Consequently they were her favorite of her siblings, though to be fair they were the ones she knew best. It was they were who she was hoping to see, though reconnecting would be somewhat difficult with so many of the Flock celebrating the return of their fellows. It was the flood of bodies that made her hope their pseudo mother was among the new arrivals, hopefully with new trinkets for Narwa and her sisters to enjoy.
"Here's hoping the journey was a successful one," she mused, craning her head this way and that. "Now, where are my siblings, perhaps they can be of help making heads and tails of this mess..."
Narwa Wordcount: 421
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