Life hadn’t been perfect – but then again, when was life ever perfect? There are too many shades, too many dimensions that hint at things much deeper. Perfection, to Lilli at least, is something that exists on the surface of a smile or the sparkle of an eye. Murmuring Rivers hadn’t been an ancient kingdom. It had no claim in history as the site of something illustrious or important. There were no rulers that came from the small realm that had helped shaped the lands around them or did anything notable enough that was able to be recalled by later generations. Murmuring Rivers had been just as it sounded – a land of many flowing streams that were protected by the imperial mountains that surrounded them.
The herd had been a small band. It had mainly been the remainder of her father’s mares that hadn’t wanted to or couldn’t go to Windskeep. It had been the young and the old, the pregnant and the sick who had stayed behind when the war cry came. By the time that Lilli had arrived, Valerio’s last-child, the land had been quiet and still. There had been no abundance of foals to play with. There had been no aunts or uncles to tell her stories. The life that her elder siblings had known had been long gone by the time Lilliana came along and she only knew the remnants of it through their own words and memories. She learned of the many family members that had once dwelled together in a place called Paraiso, the place where all her siblings had been born and the place she should have been born as well. She learned of the siblings and cousins that raced and romped in groups across the open meadow at the heart of the ancient valley. She was told time and time again about the glistening lake that lay beneath the mighty falls whose majestic roar could be heard from almost every corner of their paradise.
Life in Paraiso hadn’t been perfect but it had been theirs and it had been a place where her family had been all together. To a little girl yearning to know so much about the father and the family members she never knew, it had sounded magical.
If Lilli had any inclination of the things that were to come (if she could have been blessed with the Sight like her cousins Marcelo or Ori), she would have clutched those precious days in Murmuring Rivers even closer to her heart because while her family might have been small, it had not been broken. Not really. Her family had been different in from the traditional sense of having a mother and father. Lilli had her dappled dam and then there had been Malachi, trying to follow in the hoofprints left behind by their heroic and honorable father, attempting a role as a father figure. But then there had been kind Marcelo and sweet Brynn with her own large brood that always found themselves tangled in with her siblings. And then Elaina had come, giving Lilli the sister she had so badly needed.
Valerio might have been gone and Murmuring Rivers might have been a paler, minor kingdom in terms of glory and grandeur than Paraiso had been but it had been the home Lilli had known with the family she had grown up with.
On a gray day in Spring, when Lilli is feeling lost and lonely, she loses herself in memories. The way that Malachi’s dark mocha eyes warm when he laughs. The look on Kalina’s face as she glances over to her children as they play. The sweetness of Kildare’s laughter as he runs. The determined and fierce gaze of her silver mother, brave and resolute in her conviction to provide for her children, for Brynn and the others left behind in the wake of war. The shocking silver blue of eyes so like her own as they gaze down to her, realization coming on Valerio’s face as he looks down to his daughter for the first time. The mischievous smile of Elaina as she bumps her shoulder into Lilli’s, daring her to tell a secret or to test yet another boundary. Orani as she cries into her shoulder insisting that she fine though Lilli feels like the world has fallen apart. The intensity of Broch’s gaze as she drowns in it, his beautiful lilting voice asking when he could see her again.
That tugs at her heartstrings, a hard tug of grief and guilt and she has to banish all of them away. She doesn’t know why she comes back here time and time again, why she relives all the things that hurt her so badly. Part of the reason for coming to Beqanna had been the point to leave all that behind her, to not be left behind ever again. How foolish she is to still think that. There is still enough youthful innocence in Lilli to not yet understand that sometimes there is no other choice than to leave, hoping the ones you leave behind you can someday forgive you. And Lilli, as the one who has been left behind twice now, has struggled with finding that forgiveness and only finding a way to blame herself.
The wave rushes through her, twisting her heart in a knot until it falls into the pit of her stomach where it threatens to linger. The gray of the clouds above matches her current mood. There is nothing bright or shining about this spring day. Her beloved flowers kept their petals closed and the shades of spring come so much duller today than they have in the past. Her mind is numb, empty because if she opens it the emotion will come rushing in and cripple her. The barren is a safe place to hide today. Her movements are instinctual and she walks to the place that has always brought her comfort – the running sound of water as it pours over the rocks, as it rushes it way past her. While this isn’t home, there is something familiar in the scent of clean and sweet water.
So Lilli, with absolutely nowhere else to go, goes there.
She draws closer to the side of the river, can see the current dancing and hear it bubbling as it moves. The long grasses move just enough in the light breeze to part and for the briefest of moments, Lilli thinks she sees something. There are colors there that don’t belong to the drab sky above or its reflection in the moving water below. It is a stark shade of rich brown exposed in ribbons through the grasses, the fresh scent of water replaced by something more earthy and like herself, another horse. There is an urgency in her steps that weren’t there before, replaced by the worry that there is something actually in the stream. The grasses are pushes aside and her blue eyes come to find the form of Kagerus who seems so beautiful, something about her so pristine to Lilliana.
But her brief admiration for the loveliness of the overo is replaced with the more immediate concern that she is laying in the river. She ambles down the small slope, her own chiseled face reaching towards Kagerus, hoping for what? There is panic at the back of the mind as she wonders what she will do if the painted mare is hurt or injured. What can Lilliana possibly do for her? ”Miss,” she tries, hoping her voice comes out steady. Her attempt to reach Kagerus has been more of an amble, of sliding down the bank until she finds herself in water past her ankles. It is bitingly cold as it moves past her. ”Miss,” Lilli tries again as the whites of Kagerus’s eyes show, ”Can you hear me?” Her blue eyes scan urgently over the mare, looking for signs of harm or injury. ”Are you hurt?”
@[Kagerus]
The herd had been a small band. It had mainly been the remainder of her father’s mares that hadn’t wanted to or couldn’t go to Windskeep. It had been the young and the old, the pregnant and the sick who had stayed behind when the war cry came. By the time that Lilli had arrived, Valerio’s last-child, the land had been quiet and still. There had been no abundance of foals to play with. There had been no aunts or uncles to tell her stories. The life that her elder siblings had known had been long gone by the time Lilliana came along and she only knew the remnants of it through their own words and memories. She learned of the many family members that had once dwelled together in a place called Paraiso, the place where all her siblings had been born and the place she should have been born as well. She learned of the siblings and cousins that raced and romped in groups across the open meadow at the heart of the ancient valley. She was told time and time again about the glistening lake that lay beneath the mighty falls whose majestic roar could be heard from almost every corner of their paradise.
Life in Paraiso hadn’t been perfect but it had been theirs and it had been a place where her family had been all together. To a little girl yearning to know so much about the father and the family members she never knew, it had sounded magical.
If Lilli had any inclination of the things that were to come (if she could have been blessed with the Sight like her cousins Marcelo or Ori), she would have clutched those precious days in Murmuring Rivers even closer to her heart because while her family might have been small, it had not been broken. Not really. Her family had been different in from the traditional sense of having a mother and father. Lilli had her dappled dam and then there had been Malachi, trying to follow in the hoofprints left behind by their heroic and honorable father, attempting a role as a father figure. But then there had been kind Marcelo and sweet Brynn with her own large brood that always found themselves tangled in with her siblings. And then Elaina had come, giving Lilli the sister she had so badly needed.
Valerio might have been gone and Murmuring Rivers might have been a paler, minor kingdom in terms of glory and grandeur than Paraiso had been but it had been the home Lilli had known with the family she had grown up with.
On a gray day in Spring, when Lilli is feeling lost and lonely, she loses herself in memories. The way that Malachi’s dark mocha eyes warm when he laughs. The look on Kalina’s face as she glances over to her children as they play. The sweetness of Kildare’s laughter as he runs. The determined and fierce gaze of her silver mother, brave and resolute in her conviction to provide for her children, for Brynn and the others left behind in the wake of war. The shocking silver blue of eyes so like her own as they gaze down to her, realization coming on Valerio’s face as he looks down to his daughter for the first time. The mischievous smile of Elaina as she bumps her shoulder into Lilli’s, daring her to tell a secret or to test yet another boundary. Orani as she cries into her shoulder insisting that she fine though Lilli feels like the world has fallen apart. The intensity of Broch’s gaze as she drowns in it, his beautiful lilting voice asking when he could see her again.
That tugs at her heartstrings, a hard tug of grief and guilt and she has to banish all of them away. She doesn’t know why she comes back here time and time again, why she relives all the things that hurt her so badly. Part of the reason for coming to Beqanna had been the point to leave all that behind her, to not be left behind ever again. How foolish she is to still think that. There is still enough youthful innocence in Lilli to not yet understand that sometimes there is no other choice than to leave, hoping the ones you leave behind you can someday forgive you. And Lilli, as the one who has been left behind twice now, has struggled with finding that forgiveness and only finding a way to blame herself.
The wave rushes through her, twisting her heart in a knot until it falls into the pit of her stomach where it threatens to linger. The gray of the clouds above matches her current mood. There is nothing bright or shining about this spring day. Her beloved flowers kept their petals closed and the shades of spring come so much duller today than they have in the past. Her mind is numb, empty because if she opens it the emotion will come rushing in and cripple her. The barren is a safe place to hide today. Her movements are instinctual and she walks to the place that has always brought her comfort – the running sound of water as it pours over the rocks, as it rushes it way past her. While this isn’t home, there is something familiar in the scent of clean and sweet water.
So Lilli, with absolutely nowhere else to go, goes there.
She draws closer to the side of the river, can see the current dancing and hear it bubbling as it moves. The long grasses move just enough in the light breeze to part and for the briefest of moments, Lilli thinks she sees something. There are colors there that don’t belong to the drab sky above or its reflection in the moving water below. It is a stark shade of rich brown exposed in ribbons through the grasses, the fresh scent of water replaced by something more earthy and like herself, another horse. There is an urgency in her steps that weren’t there before, replaced by the worry that there is something actually in the stream. The grasses are pushes aside and her blue eyes come to find the form of Kagerus who seems so beautiful, something about her so pristine to Lilliana.
But her brief admiration for the loveliness of the overo is replaced with the more immediate concern that she is laying in the river. She ambles down the small slope, her own chiseled face reaching towards Kagerus, hoping for what? There is panic at the back of the mind as she wonders what she will do if the painted mare is hurt or injured. What can Lilliana possibly do for her? ”Miss,” she tries, hoping her voice comes out steady. Her attempt to reach Kagerus has been more of an amble, of sliding down the bank until she finds herself in water past her ankles. It is bitingly cold as it moves past her. ”Miss,” Lilli tries again as the whites of Kagerus’s eyes show, ”Can you hear me?” Her blue eyes scan urgently over the mare, looking for signs of harm or injury. ”Are you hurt?”
@[Kagerus]
but it's all in the past, love
it's all gone with the wind