“Are you sure?”

“Yes Solstice, I'm sure. Everything will turn out alright in the end, it always does,” Springtide Sea said with a little smile that belied the weary expression in her eyes. “That doesn't mean that I'm not grateful for you staying here, but I believe...,” she continued and then corrected herself “I know you need to go back to your little team and make sure our newcomers have places to stay before winter.” Her smiled turned somewhat more sincere at that.

“Yes mom... it's just that...”

“I know and it's kind of you. I'm still a grown mare though and Moorland will be out looking for him.”

“Did he tell you that?” he asked with some doubt in his voice.

“No he didn't, but I know the four of you. He'd feel the need to act responsibly,” she looked upwards with a small sigh, “Or at least something along the lines of what he defines as responsibly.” She gave a soft and affectionate little laugh that ended with a weary sigh. “He'll be fine. They'll be fine. Now off you go, no more avoiding work because of me.”

“I wasn't avoiding anything!” he protested.

She smiled warmly at him and softly shook her head. He looked down at his hooves.

“Maybe a little,” he conceded in a small voice.

She snorted and pointed a hoof at the door.

“Well... I guess... I guess I'm off then. See you later mom.” He turned and reluctantly trotted out the entrance to the Royal Hotel, looking over his shoulder once just before he left to see his mother sitting in the middle of the old reception area with a far away look in her eyes.

As he trotted through old town Stromness, his hooves clip-clopping softly on the still damp cobblestones, he felt a growing sense of unease. How was he supposed to concentrate on work right now? Especially work as tedious as stripping old buildings of their rotting interiors to convert them into something approaching a living space for new members of the herd.

They'd long since run out of space in the buildings father had deemed worth keeping and even if having warm bodies to snuggle up against in the dark winter months was comforting, and more often than not also necessary, there was a limit to the comfort. The limit usually being the ability to turn around without pushing two others over. And, occasionally, fleas. Damn Moor's cats.

Yes, he wasn't exactly looking forward to resuming the dirty work or to the taste of rotting stuff you simply couldn't pry loose with hooves, no matter how hard you tried to avoid using your teeth. If only they had more tools. Damn Moor and his high priority building and maintenance projects.

With a grumbling sigh he continued on his way. Clip clop. Something was up, he just knew it. Clip clop. Surely the others could continue working on those two houses without him a little longer? Clip clop. Surely.

If not, then there was still the task of painting exterior woodwork with that new red paint Dawn had come up with, that red sludge with the metallic tang to it. Especially windows. All of them. Clip... clop.

He realized he had stopped and was eyeing the low building they had finished last week that was just visible a good way down the road. It sat there looking a bit ashamed of itself with its recently acquired rusty sheet metal roof that was weighted down with all kinds of heavy debris. He still hadn't gotten the grime out of his chest fur because there was no point, really. His ears twitched.

“Nah, they'll be fine!” he assured himself and turned, a relieved smile on his face. He cantered back the way he'd come because he had a very definite feeling that he was needed at the exact opposite side of the town, for whatever reason. It wasn't the first time he had a feeling like this in varying situations and, still unsettling to him, pretty often there actually had been a reason. Alright, maybe there were some enhancing factors in play today.

As he rounded the corner onto main street he was reminded of why it was generally a bad idea to go faster than a trot here when he slipped on a loose cobblestone and skidded sideways into a pile of night straw.

Good thing he hadn't bothered to clean his coat.

A good thing really. Otherwise he'd not been there on time, on the town's northern limits past the moss-covered ruins of bungalow style houses. As he sat there on his haunches, absentmindedly trying to remove some sticky bits of straw from his forelegs, he spotted them coming down the hill.

Three ponies were approaching from the northwest, side by side, the one on the right markedly taller than the other two. Since he had to squint against the diffuse glare of the early afternoon sun filtering through hazy clouds, he couldn't make out much else until they had come much closer. When they did, he did a double take and stared.

Dawn was clearly leading the little group and even though his gait seemed tired it was also full of purpose. The two others were flanking him the traditional way, half a body length behind. The presence of a self-confident Iceland pony he'd never seen before was odd enough in itself, but what really caught him unprepared was the sight of Moorland at Dawn's righthoof side, ears flicking about and with a contemplative look on his face. He seemed... content? Definitely relaxed and deep in thought.

His hunch had been correct, he noted with a grin spreading on his features. Right place, right time. He rose to his hooves and galloped up to the little group, slowing down just enough to not bowl his younger brother over when he threw his forehooves around his neck in a fierce hug. Dawn had just enough time to brace himself for the impact and only staggered backwards a little while laughing and putting one hoof on his brother's withers.

“Damn it's good to see you Dawn!” he exclaimed, still grinning broadly when he dropped down to all fours again. “Good job, Moor! And you've brought company?” he added, first eyeing Buidhe and then giving Dawn a wink.

Buidhe looked perplexed, Moorland rolled his eyes with an enervated sigh and Dawn just laughed and shook his head. Then he wrinkled his muzzle.

“Thanks for the welcome Solstice! Just please tell me you haven't been rolling around in what I think it was? Apart from mud, dust and dry rot I mean.” Dawn eyed the multitude of stains and dirty patches on Solstice's already multicoloured coat. The visual effect was impressive.

Oh, right. “Uhm...”

Moorland slowly sat down and closed his eyes with a pained expression on his face.

“[Do none of you ever care?]" Buidhe asked carefully, backing up just a little bit.

“[It's not like that!]” Dawn quickly said.

“[Stop! Explain. I] ...ah...[working much!] Uhm. [Slit?] No. [slipping!]” Solstice cut in, frantically groping for words and gestures.

Moorland covered his face with his forelegs.

Dawn winced and took a deep breath. “Let's try this again. Buidhe, this is my brother Solstice Spirit. Solstice, this is Buidhe of the Ronaldsay tribe.”

The mare gave him a polite nod with a carefully blank expression.

“What?!” He blinked. “Uhm, I mean, Hi! Pleased to meet you!” He was about to offer a hoof when Dawn quietly cleared his throat. He looked down at said hoof, thought better of it and slumped a little. “Way to make a first impression I guess,” he muttered dejectedly while lowering his head. “Sorry.”

“Now that introductions are taken care of, I suggest we get back to the matter at hoof.” Moorland had risen to his hooves again and addressed his leader. “May I further suggest we head into town so that you can make amends with mother and I can get back to doing something useful? And maybe we can also refresh ourselves first.” He regarded his younger brother with raised eyebrows and added “To varying degrees.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he commented sullenly, ears drooping.

“Not just yet,” Dawn said slowly, “I've been thinking a lot for the last couple of miles and there is something I need to take care of first.” He let out a long breath and fixed the heather green stallion to his right with a determined gaze. “And for that I need your backup Moor.”

“Do you now?” Moorland smirked while cocking his head. “I have an inkling as to what that might entail. Well then,” he bit his lower lip and worked his mouth for a second as if needing to taste the words first, “I've got your back.” He paused. “As they say.”

A tiny smile played around Dawns lips as he turned away. “Let's get going then. Solstice you come with us, it's actually quite convenient you showed up.” The young leader gave him a lopsided smile. “We're not going into town just yet as Buidhe wouldn't like that at all. I wanted to escort her to the eastern side of our fields and when I'm there anyway I'm going to,” he sighed,”Have a talk with Harvest.”

“Tell me you're not serious.” He looked at his leader. “You are serious. Okay.” He took a deep breath and then exclaimed “Why Me?!”

Dawn looked to the northwest with an unhappy expression where a large group of ponies was working in the fields, busy loading carts with the rest of the year's first cut of hay.

“Because right now I can't just leave here.” He snorted. “Again. And because you'll more or less understand what's being said, unlike Moor.” Dawn ignored the quiet huff from his right side. “And before you suggest it, sending anyone else isn't an option because I want a meeting with their leader. Buidhe has already told me that he at best won't take me seriously if I don't send one of my family. At worst he'll take it as an insult.”

He felt trapped. Dismantling rotten buildings to prepare shelters for newcomers suddenly seemed very appealing. But, as usual, he'd manoeuvred himself into the situation. “How am I even supposed to do this? You're the only one of us fluent in Whinny!”

Dawn smiled at him. “Buidhe here will be your guide, we talked about all the details on the way back from the western moors. You're not going to stumble about blindly in their territory and you'll hardly have to do any talking anyway. I just need you to be there and I know I can count on you.”

“Oh great. I'm going to be a figurehead. I'll put on my best smile then!” He grinned as broadly as possible. “Does he have a name I can pronounce?”

Dawn slowly closed his eyes and rubbed the tip of a hoof up along his muzzle and between his eyes. He took a deep, slow breath. “It's Faoileag. Look... Spirit... I need you to do this and to take it seriously. I'm hoping that I haven't already waited too long to reach out to them and he's gotten the impression that it isn't one of my priorities. Good thing he's Buidhe's uncle-”

“Say what now?! Aw come on!”

“-and because Buidhe is his designated scout-”

“They have scouts?!”

“-he is waiting for a report anyway-”

“She's been spying on us?!”

“Will you be quiet and let me finish?! Thank you.”

“Sorry.”

“Alright, where was I?” Dawn said after another deep breath. “Buidhe can tell you the story about the Ronaldsays and their scouts on your way-”

“She'll have to dumb down the Whinny.”

“Shut up. The important thing is that Faoileag is waiting for her to report back and hopefully has put any deliberations on how the change of leadership – are you listening? Good. How our relations to them might change. I'm not going to say that the fate of Stromness rests in your hooves...”

“Oh as long as there is no pressure involved.”

Dawn glared at him. “I just really want this to succeed because it would be nice, really helpful and possibly important and right now you're the stallion for the job.”

“Dawn, I get where you're coming from,” he replied and took a more assertive stance before continuing “And I'll do it and try to do my best.” He cocked his head and continued in a softer tone. “What I really want to know though is how you think you're going to manage all the things you're trying to do at once while trying your hoof at tricky diplomacy as well.”

His leader winced. “I'll try something new,” he replied and cast a quick glance at Moorland, “I'll delegate some of the important tasks. Like I'm doing right now with you. And I'll take a risk and put all my money on Buidhe simply because she's here now, I trust her and she's my best chance of having this go smoothly.”

Buidhe cocked her head at that but remained silent.

“Okay, it's just, ah well.” He fidgeted a little, took a step closer and asked in a small and unhappy voice that was too quiet for anyone but his younger brother to hear: “Just tell me why you think... I won't botch this?”

Dawn hesitated for a moment but then also took a step forward and briefly nuzzled his brother. “Because I know you care, Sol,” he said with a smile and equally quiet.

He nudged Dawn's head away with a sudden grin. “Yep! You're right, thanks for reminding me!” He looked down the main road towards the east. “Could be worse things happening than having a beautiful mare dumped on me as a travelling companion!” As an afterthought he added “She's already shown she can take of a weary stallion.” He paused. “You know. Like. Not like that! I mean. Yes?” he stammered sheepishly.

“HMPH!”

Dawn snorted. “Solstice? I was really just giving Buidhe a break from speaking English with me all the way down from the moors. Talking politics in Whinny is beyond me, so she had to use a foreign language the whole way and that's taxing when you're not used to it.” He grinned. “She's actually really good at it and can understand you just fine.”

“Ah.” His ears folded backwards as he very slowly turned and put his head against the wall of the farmhouse ruin they were standing in front of with a little thud.

“Solstice?” Buidhe spoke up after the first mile spent in silence.

“Hm?”

“What is 'money'?”

“Dunno, ask Dawn.”

He heard her sigh and possibly chuckle quietly but kept his gaze on the ground before his hooves.

“Solstice?” Buidhe spoke up again after they had left the bridge over the inlet to the Loch of Stennes well behind.

“Hm?”

“Stop and look at me,” she said firmly.

He obeyed and reluctantly turned and looked up to her with a miserable expression in his large gold brown eyes. “Yes?”
“Stop sulking.” She gave a small, sly grin. “We say, hmm, 'You put your rump in the nettles.' Stings you. Not me.”

He laughed weakly. “So far the best description I've heard for something like this. I'm really sorry Buidhe, that was the dumbest thing I've done in a long while.”

“Do not worry. I am not angry.” She grinned at him. “I am just pretty.”

“You wha... that's...,” he spluttered. “No fair!”

She snickered, snorted, then laughed out loud. In the end he couldn't help but join her.

Swishing her tail a few times against the increasingly bothersome midges she set off along the road again. He trailed a few steps behind her as the ground was becoming increasingly unsuitable to walk in anything but single file. Fine by him, really.

She was pretty. The slackening soutwesterly wind played with her long mane and tail, blowing the strands a little to the left in concert with the swaying motion of her strong and steady gait. Her coat shone in warm shades of orange in the early afternoon sun, the light accentuating how her muscles moved beneath the skin, and if she was tired from already having walked the whole morning she didn't show any sign of it.

He looked out over the rolling countryside with its lush green meadows, dotted here and there with patches of cottongrass where the old farmland was slowly reverting back to moor. The main road had already shrunk to this narrow path between the encroaching marsh from the loch and the expanding heathland from the low hills to the south. A few houses sat forlornly in the tall grass, already listing to various sides on the softening ground and slowly falling apart.

It was beautiful in a melancholic way, almost as beautiful as what he was trying not to watch all the time just in front of him. He smiled and shook his head, making his unruly mane flop to both sides of his neck and back again. And where was the harm in it, really? It wasn't as if he could embarrass himself any worse than he already had today. Besides she didn't seem to really have taken all that much offence to his lack of tact. That gave him an idea on how to finally discuss something he'd wanted to know since he was a colt. Especially when he was a colt.

“Buidhe?”

She craned her neck to look at him, with no impact on her pace or how sure her hoofalls were on the uneven surface. “What is it?” she asked with a smile.

“Since I kinda started down that road already earlier,” he mused and then continued more boldly “Looking at you, or up at you more like, I was wondering how,” he cleared his throat “How dad actually, like, did it.”

She blinked a few times. “Uh?”

“Yeah I mean...” There was no going back now and consequences be damned. He grinned. “I know the Fjords from the tribes aren't as tall as you, but then I'm two hooves taller than he was, so I guess it's about the same difference. He waited. She just looked at him with a blank expression. “Scaffolding?” he offered sheepishly. She lost her footing.

He decided she was still beautiful even lying in a shallow pool of water with pieces of cotton grass in her drenched mane and whinnying with laughter. Having his forelegs swiped out from under him and going head first into the same pool wasn't as pleasant as just looking on but he very much needed a bath anyway, so there.

When he came up for breath she splashed some water into his face, snorted and replied “Maybe in a pool?” She smirked. “Do not get ideas!” she mock-scolded him and dunked his head under the surface again with a well placed forehoof.

“You stay down here taking a bath!” she said, still laughing, and pushed him back in when he was about to scramble up onto the path again after her.

He looked up at her from his position lying half submerged on his back and grinned. “Not a pool. Too cold by far I can tell you. Would never work,” he said and proceeded to roll around several times, using the friction of the rough grasses and bits of heather in the water to get most of the dirt out of his coat. When he finally got out again and shook himself so that there was a whole cloud of droplets around him for a moment, he realized he hadn't felt that good for weeks.

“Maybe a flat rock,” Buidhe mused in a contemplative voice, looking at her companion. “He had wings?”

“Yep! Are you saying he could have hovered? Now there's a precision job.”

“All work for her,” Buidhe commented indignantly.

“Yeah.” He put a dripping hoof to his chin. “No leverage when flying. And no tail swishing or you'll swat your partner out of the air. I'll have to advise Dawn on that.” He sobered up a little at that last sentence and quelled his laughter, but he was still smiling happily.

Buidhe hesitated for a second and then lifted her right foreleg, offering a hoof with the fetlock angled a little towards herself and looking somewhat apprehensive for whatever reason. He gave it no further consideration and hooked his own hoof around hers for a moment, eliciting a smile from her that he was sure would have melted him had he not just rolled around in really cold water.

When she turned and set off again there was a spring in her trot, so much that he had to hurry to catch up to her after she'd left him standing there with a stupid grin on his face. He laughed to himself and concentrated on the warmth of the sun on his back and the soft wind that dried his coat and whispered soft nothings in his ears. Suddenly, life was good again.

Soon the road had solid embankments once more and they trotted along on either side of the cracked tarmac band in companionable silence. Their rhythmical hooffalls were the only sound for a good long while, apart from the far off calls of a flock of crows somewhere to the north at the Loch of Harray, past the Standing Stones of Stennes that were just about visible in the distance.

A little further along the road they came to a crossroads where the terrain began to even out into a wide stretch of comparatively dry grassland. Buidhe suggested to have a break and something to eat since, at least in her opinion, the composition of grasses and herbs changed into something rather nice from this point onwards.

To his surprise he found himself agreeing with her after the first few listless bites. As he munched away he realised with slight amusement that he was actually enjoying it, and not just because he was grazing side by side with his new friend. Granted, that certainly helped, but still.

“Say,” she began after raising her head from the ground, a long stalk of grass held in the left corner of her mouth, “Is that not the grave?” She pointed to the east with a flick of her head to where the mound of Maeshowe cairn stood alone in the wide expanse of meadowland. She blinked and hastily added “May I ask?”

“'course you may, don't worry, didn't we already joke around at his expense?” he replied after swallowing his last mouthful and sat down on his haunches. “And yes, that's the place. Actually was my idea to use the old tomb and Dawn agreed that it would fit. Dad was kind of a legend so we buried him like one.” He smiled. “Place is five thousand years old, just like the standing stones and all those other things unearthed around here. Yeah... felt like the right place for the one who started it all.”

Buidhe nodded and was silent for a little while. “Not sad no more?”

“Life goes on!” He smiled. “Don't get me wrong, I spent a lot of miserable days over the course of the last year... seeing him wither away like that was... not nice,” he continued with an increasingly far away look with his voice becoming quieter and more contemplative. “Spent a lot of time with mom crying on my shoulder. Guess I more or less said goodbye during that time and just was happy for him when he simply didn't wake one morning. Good way to go when you have to.” His smile returned.

“How old was he?”

He put a hoof to his chin. “Good question. A hundred years? A hundred and twenty? Something like that. Pretty sure he remembered the days when this island here still had a population that walked on two legs and all the things around here actually worked.” He cocked his head with a smile. “Interesting to imagine, no?”

“Hundred...,” she repeated quietly, eyes wide and ears flicking about. She suddenly perked up.

“What?”

“We... ah.” She shook her head and said something rather long in Whinny that contained 'tomb like this', 'southern coast', 'very old', 'maybe important too' interspersed with a lot of words and gestures he didn't understand and then pawed at the ground apologetically. “I am sorry. Too few English words.”

He cocked his head, ears pointing straight forward. “You just told me some Ronaldsay history, didn't you? Had that far away look.” After she nodded affirmatively he continued, “Now that's interesting. Dawn's gonna have a fit when I tell him about a twin to this cairn here and he can't have a look at it.” He chuckled. Then he paused before adding sullenly “Ah damn... that's my job now. And I only got half of what you said there, at best. Seems my Northern Whinny is a lot better than the Ronaldsay version.” He sighed deeply and hung his head. “And that's saying something.”

To his surprise she came over and nuzzled him briefly. “I will teach you,” she said with a glint in her eyes. “If you want.”

“What? Ah, I mean, uhm, yeah sure!” he blurted out in a voice entirely too eager and nervous to his own liking. She chuckled softly and turned away before he could return the nuzzle, much to his chagrin. “Real smooth Sol,” he muttered quietly and trotted after her.

A few hundred yards further down the road they passed a singular standing stone covered in lichen. The spatula shaped monolith was buried in the ground with its narrow end and stood about ten feet tall with a dozen or so of differently sized blueish-white crystals embedded in its surface like glittery barnacles. A few tiny fragments of grey stone littered the bare ground immediately around the base.

With a smile he noted the perfect alignment of the stone's flat surface with Maeshowe's sealing stone half a mile to the northeast. He'd have to show Buidhe the spectacle of the sun setting directly behind the standing stone when viewed from the cairn's entrance on winter solstice. When the sky was clear, the crystals reflected and refracted the last light of day into a kaleidoscope of rainbows that shimmered in the condensing vapour rising from the stone's base and surface. It was a thing of pure beauty.

He wished they could have left the main road after Maeshowe and cut directly east over the meadows that transitioned into the short cropped grassland of the sheep ranges and then traversed the ridges of what Dawn called the Finstown Hills. It was easier on the hooves and, more importantly, pleasing to the senses, what with how the colours of the deep green grass flowed into the grey green and purple of the heather on the inclines. The ground felt and smelled alive out there in the softly rolling landscape.

Buidhe insisted on taking the main road though since it was the fastest route and she wanted to reach her tribe's territory within the day. So he only spared a longing glance towards the open land and hurried to keep up with his companion. Buidhe clearly hadn't spent much time travelling with others, especially not with a pony who had to take a lot more steps to cover the same distance as she.

As much as he'd come to like her in the half day after they'd met he really wished she'd be more considerate. For that he'd likely have to say something though, and his pride wasn't just yet where his hurting hooves were. The road's embankments were well suited for a fast paced trot, they just weren't nice in any way. That didn't seem to bother her in the slightest. He sighed and increased his pace to close the growing gap between them yet again.

When they'd rounded the base of the hills to the north and passed through the remains of the little village sitting on the coast where the road turned southeast toward Kirkwall, he realized that Buidhe likely meant 'within daylight', not just within the day as he defined it: the day ending after the day's work was finished. And it was close to midsummer.

“Buidhe,” he called out, “Can we... can I have a break please?” he added in a smaller voice when he'd gotten her attention.

She stopped abruptly as if jolted from deep thought and looked over her shoulder to where he'd flopped down on his haunches. With a swish of her tail she turned around, cantered back to him and, much to his surprise, nuzzled him for the second time that day. “We can,” she said with a smile. “I am sorry.”

“Why are we in such a hurry anyway?” he asked, careful to keep the whine out of his voice. “Dawn's got so much on his plate already and even if I get why he wants this done quickly why does it have to be done today, right now, as if our whole future depended on it?” He watched her parse that long sentence and was just about to apologize when she responded.

“I do not know when I can come back,” she said and then explained in carefully pronounced, very slowly (and dumbed down as he noted) spoken Whinny: “[Uncle may want me around longer. I was gone for long. It is not good for me to make him angry. If I am alone and tell him Dawn wants to meet he will be insulted. Because Dawn did not come himself. Or one of Dawn's family.]” She paused. “You understand so far?” when he nodded, face scrunched up in concentration and ears pointing straight forward, she continued “[Dawn takes too long to ask; uncle will not listen.]” She bit her lower lip. “[Going into our land when not allowed is also an insult.]”

He blinked before blurting out “But that's ridiculous! That's a no-win! He'd need to camp at your borders until someone shows up?!”

Buidhe just looked skyward with a sigh. “This is why I am leading you. You must ask Faoileag soon. Find him first. With me.”

“And here I thought it was just because you liked my company,” he mused sarcastically and with an over-long sigh.

She recoiled from him with wide eyes and ears flattened, looking absolutely crestfallen. “But... I...”

It took him a second to register what was happening before he was on his hooves. “Oh no! Nonononono! I didn't mean... that's a joke! Ah shit! Sorry!” He watched her hesitantly retreat another step. “[Not meaning in tribe?]” he asked hastily and winced when she shook her head, confused hurt in her eyes. “...” He sat down heavily again and looked at his hooves. “You know what? I'll just sit here and look stupid. I'm good at that.”

Author's Notes:

Finally. Needed to digest Starscribe's critique and put it to use (hopefully it will show as the story progresses), rearrange the plot and kick out a few thousand words that didn't fit after that. Plus I'm not exactly a fast writer anymore, but this is good exercise to get there again. Luckily, Solstice and Buidhe almost write themselves.