cold in the violence after the war
hope is a fire to keep us warm
It feels as though with each passing day the confines of Nerine grow smaller and smaller. Of course, that could simply be because she had now managed to trace over every inch of the rocky cliffs and flat, grassy plateaus in her daily runs (sometimes twice or thrice daily). It’s easy then, to begin expanding her circle. To find new landscape to breeze over as she attempts to force her body to forget it’s limitations.
It’s not easy. Not anymore. As her distance expands, so too does her ability to bridge it. With each thrumming hoofbeat and burning furlong, her body grows stronger. Leaner. Muscles retaining memories, forcing her to work harder to achieve that burning forgetfulness.
Today she moves with a near blindness. A fact her mother would certainly not appreciate, but she hardly cares. And it is in this state that she finds herself further afield than she had anticipated. As her muscles grow tired, beginning to burn beneath her own weight, she slows. Only as her steps ease does she begin the glance around her more earnestly, until she recognizes where she had come.
The forest.
She had barely noticed the press of trees as they had grown denser around her. Had barely noticed her steps becoming muffled by the carpet of needles and leaves and torn green moss. Dagen would scold her, if he knew. He had always tried to protect her, so watchful and wary where she would charge in headlong, with little thought to consequence.
Perhaps one day she would realize the error of the heedless exuberance. For now though, she is young, brave. Foolishly full of confidence in her own strength. But then, with her parents, avoiding such a thing may very well have been impossible for a girl like Brazen.
As it turns out, her father had not simply pulled her name from the air.
Sweat sleeks her sides, darkening the red and white of her pelt beneath the heavy cage of pale, bony armor. Almost idly, she leans against a tree as she catches her breath, blue eyes peering curiously through the trees from beneath the mask shrouding her features. Perhaps she would stay a while, rather than returning immediately. After all, there are more distractions in this world than merely running.
Brazen
