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Bastet was born the second child of the leader of a small herd, predominately formed of Bae and Jala, whose lands are at the northern edge of D’ob. As her elder sister, she was the only fruit on her tree and as such she had no rivals for her parents’ attention and the first seasons of her life were carefree and pleasant. She went where she chose, within the herd’s territory of course, associated with whomever she wished to and did as she pleased, until it was time to sleep.

Her fortunes, however, changed somewhat as she approached adolescence.

The older she grew, the clearer it became that she was far from being an average filly. Though she had the typical pride and feistyness of a Jala mare, she combined it with brawn gleaned from hours and hours of sparring with colts and running around after the border guards; the herd’s small but effective fighting force.

As often as not, her lovely long mane and tail were caked with mud, and the only interest she showed in the leading line as anything but her family was a desire to join the guards and protect it. Though her sister had mated advantageously, one well placed child was not enough to see that the small herd was looked kindly upon by its larger neighbors and so it was decided that Bastet too must be found a mate.

When she was first informed of this, the purple striped mare laughed and told her father to find her a lovely young mare to protect and she would be more than happy to. Her sire, it has to be said, felt that she had missed the point somewhat.

For the time being, however, as the need to make a new ally was not urgent, Bastet was largely allowed to continue living her life as she always had done, though it was impressed upon her that, one day, her life would have to change and she would have to give up her games to serve her herd.

The gold-eyed filly, almost a young mare by this point, tried time and time again to persuade her father that she could serve the herd as a fighter rather than a prize for some noble stallion of another herd, but she was unsuccessful. Muscle, her father felt, could come from anywhere, but a good political match required one of his bloodline and, much as it pained him to take away his daughter’s freedom, she was his only remaining child, and therefore his only choice.

Time went on, seasons changed from warm to cold to warm and back again and again until the tough young filly was a tough young mare. Her coat, mane and tail were still muddy, and her eyes still lit up best when galloping madly through the herd’s lands, soaring above them or when she sparred with the young stallions her colt friends had become. Though the threat of her arranged mating remained, Bastet mostly ignored it. It did not seem as though there was anybody suitable to pair her with for the time being and, ever optimistic, she still tried to change her father’s mind.

One day in early winter, however, Bastet’s luck finally ran out.

A mate had been found for her; one Diego, second son of the lord of a fair sized herd whose lands shared a small part of their border. It seemed that he had vanished during a hard winter some time ago and been thought dead ever since the spring that followed it. As it turned out, however, he had merely been busy raising the six foals he had with a mare unknown to his family. Far from disgracing him however, he was congratulated on his potency and welcomed back to his herd.

Privately, however, Bastet noticed that it only took the gold Jala’s father a couple of weeks to find a nice convenient mate to tie him down. She also noticed that, at last, she seemed to be beaten, and that her father had succeeded in choosing for her a stallion with a reputation as a proud, cruel and generally unpleasant b*****d. Though her sire apologized for this as he sent her off with a couple of the border guards (notably ones she had not been particular friends with) to meet her mate, the purple-striped mare could not find it in herself to forgive him.

Her freedom, long cherished though sometimes taken for granted, was about to be stripped from her...

Misc

Well, I’ve done it; I’m a day’s flight south of home. They’ll look for me, I don;t doubt that, but by flying I’ve made myself very hard to trace. No matter how they may cast their nets I shall elude them; I must.

I have decided to take to D’ob; there are many Nequus there and though that many mean people will spot and report me it also makes my marks harder to pick out and offers chances to hide in a crowd. Maybe I will even join a herd and offer my strength to them in return for sanctuary from my former people. There again, maybe I will stay a free agent and just move and graze as I choose. The possibilities before me are endless and, though I miss my family, I feel a little rush of elation every time I realize that not one of them is Diego.

I am free.

Today I sealed my fate. I met a stallion on the beach who knew my name. I wondered who he was to know this, but before long I discovered that he is one of Diego’s sons. I felt sorry for him at first, to have a sire such as that, but he soon began speaking to me of the golden creature I thought I knew so much about.

He has changed.

He is sorry.

He loves the mother of his six b*****d children.

What am I to make of him now? Oh I’ve chosen to go back home and become his mate but that doesn’t mean I’ve made a decision about the stallion in himself. He has changed. Will he change back? He is sorry. Is that enough? He loves the mother of his six b*****d children. Will he ever be able to feel anything but a pale affection for me? These questions, and others, buzz about my head like flies around a wound. I know that I have condemned myself to be a pretty trophy mare and to smile falsely from behind golden bars every day of my life, but my mind still seeks ways in which it might turn out alright.

Perhaps he will decide he hates me and weasel out of it. Perhaps he will die. Perhaps I will die.

I don’t want foals, not now, not this soon and not with somebody I neither know nor love. Yet as soon as our match is announced, we will be expected to being producing little ones for our two herds to ooh and aww over.

Still. A few days of my own are left to me. I shall spend them here in Qurine. I have found a nice cave to stay in and the ocean is a beautiful, dramatic place to spend the last free days of your life.

I arrived home today, and scouts must have been watching for me because everything was prepared for the ceremony with Diego. Maurice left as soon as he saw me to father, didn’t get a chance to thank him as I wanted to. I’ll miss his quiet presence, I think, it was nice just to be silent and move. Still, no time for that now, I’m probably just trying to make myself love the nearest stallion in some last ditch attempt to keep myself from being Diegoed.

As i say though, everything was ready when I got there and once father had scolded me I was whisked off, the ceremony was held and Diego and I were left alone together. I apologized for my behavior at our first meeting, and we actually got on okay. We share some thoughts and feelings and he wasn’t an arrogant git a bit. He really isn’t any happier about this than I am and he was just as happy as I to put off our duty at least until tomorrow.

We spent the night talking in between somewhat uncomfortable silences, but it was alright I suppose. Still, I couldn’t take my mind of what we’ll have to do next. Produce foals. I don’t want foals, I have never had even the slightest spark of maternal instinct for anything. Egh. I just hope Diego remembers all his parenting skills, and that he had them in the first place. It still feels a bit unreal, to be honest, but I’m sure it’ll all hit me pretty soon.

Bastet, mate of Diego.

How depressing.