Dotted throughout the foreground was the herd, well taken care of and already settled into their nightly routine.
They bunched in twos and threes, seeking protection with one another. It was a soothing sight in a night that had been full of ups and downs.
Eva didn't know how long she'd sat before she saw a shadowy figure move out of the camp and toward a set of horses to her side.
Jane touched the pommel of her sword as she moved closer to Eva.
Recognizing the figure, Eva shook her head and stood. "It's Fiona."
Understanding filled Jane's face before she stepped back. Eva dusted any remaining pieces of grass and dirt off her bottom before starting in Fiona's direction.
"Fancy seeing you out here. I thought you would have gotten some sleep for tomorrow," Eva said when she was a few feet from where Fiona looked to be leaning her face into the neck of her horse.
There was a snuffle and furtive movements as if Fiona was wiping her face.
"Eva, what are you doing out here?" Fiona's voice was clogged as if she'd been crying.
Eva hesitated, trying to decide if she should leave Fiona to her solitude so she could grieve without an audience.
"Same thing you are, I suspect," Eva said after a brief internal debate.
Walking away felt wrong. As much as Fiona probably preferred pretending Laurell's death didn't hurt like it did, it wasn't healthy. Nor was it the best thing for Fiona.
As hard as it was, Eva figured she could at least offer Fiona an ear.
She stepped forward, sliding a hand along the neck of Fiona's horse.
"There's something about these creatures. I've never been able to figure it out," Eva said in a wistful voice. "Just being around them makes the weight on my shoulders fall away."
They were a balm for the soul.
She'd noticed it the first time Caia stuck her nose in Eva's palm and every day since.
They weren't a panacea, capable of curing someone of all ills, but she'd seen them shine a light into the parts of a soul even well-meaning friends and family could never reach.
Perhaps that was why Eva retreated to their company every time she encountered an obstacle that she felt she couldn't overcome. Their companionship had never failed her, always showing her the path forward again.
Eva could only hope they did the same for Fiona.
They spent a short while simply grooming Fiona's horse. Each took a side, paying careful attention to the mare's care as they got lost in their thoughts.
The repetitive motions of brushing the horse's coat didn't just help Fiona. Eva felt more like herself before she was halfway through.
The bands of tension in her shoulders were long gone by the time she darted a look in Fiona's direction, not asking any of the questions she could have.
Fiona expected her to, if the tense set of her shoulders was anything to judge by.
Instead, Eva returned to brushing, focused on getting the sweat and grime out of the mare's coat.
With horses, you couldn't always take a hard hand. You had to let them make the first move. Humans weren't that different.
Force only worked so far. It couldn't compel someone to unburden themselves of the knots in their heart. Fiona had to trust Eva wouldn't take what she shared and mishandle it. For that, she needed time. And space.
Eva had just about given up on reaching Fiona tonight when the other woman let out a loud, frustrated exhale.
The mare flicked her tail in reaction.
"I hate feeling like this. It's not me," Fiona confessed. "I've never been this person. People die. It's a fact of life. Warriors die more often than most."
