This was not a place she ever planned to be. In fact, if she had her way, she never would have stepped foot in a land like this one. But she wasn't getting her way much lately, was she? Only three and a half years old, and she had already been shunned by her family and then left by the only other equine she could ever fathom considering her family. Venus was a horse, not a place, but she was all Romi had ever considered home. Until she realized that her throne and her normalcy was worth more than her love for a little white mare.

Okay, so this is what we know for sure: falling in love with your king's only daughter is definitely a bad move. Especially when you're said king's guard's only daughter. Let's not do that one again. Gets kind of complicated.

Anyways...long story short, that's how she ended up here. She looked back on it with so much remorse and hurt that she actually found it funny...the whole situation was about a thousand kinds of fucked up. Of course, her slight amusement at her situation wasn't enough to keep her from crying herself to sleep every night. But she at least spent the days feeling strong. She knew she wasn't a hero, but she was lightyears above all the equines she had left behind. At least she hoped.

The land smelled of other equines, and while Romi had never been in a claiming land before, she wasn't so naive that she didn't know what one was. This is where the homeless congregated. The hopeful, waiting for a beautiful man to whisk them off, take them home, and make them their queen. It seemed as though that was everyone's expectation. But this petite mare had given up on expectations the day they were all exceeded. Because a year later they became the biggest disappointment of her life.

The night had been long enough. As she made way towards the field, the rising sun made her squint as she tried to catch sight of anyone nearby. She couldn't spot any other horses but could sense their presence. A nicker here, the sound of flattening brush there...some, she were sure, grazed peacefully in the strengthening light while others ambled as aimlessly as she. Romi wasn't one to stand around and wait, though. The events of the past few weeks had made her rightfully indignant and far more demanding than she was before. She continued on with purpose, crossing through a bit of forest into the open field. She thought she saw someone ahead--though the sun behind them made the creature only a silhouette. Still, she fearlessly continued on.

"Hey. You there," she called into the dawn, with too little foresight to know what she would say to their inevitable what do you want?

Romantic Pretense

Where does the good go?

Daybreak always afforded her a better lease on life. There is nothing quite as relieving as watching the sun come up after a sleepless night. Perhaps that's what made her confident enough to approach another equine after weeks of tearing through the wilderness, broken down like an abandoned child. Perhaps the bright sparkling orange of the sun on the tall grass is what kept her from turning and running away from the approaching two-toned mare. 

The newcomer didn't seem phased by Romi's abrupt greeting--one she regretted the moment it exited her mouth. Had she no tact? Regardless, she stopped in her tracks as the femme moved towards her, allowing her a respectful amount of space in which they could speak. 

"Malka," she repeated, trying to find herself after a stint of loneliness, during which she had apparently managed to lose all social niceties. "Pleasure to meet you." Remembering herself, she gave a quick nod of her dainty grey head, only to flick her dark forelock, thin but long, out from its position blown back around her ears. She did a quick recon on the mare, noting her painted pattern, which would have not been unusual if it were not accompanied by a number of other odd markings and a certain mystical air. 

Realizing she had been staring, she stammered out an introduction. "My name is Romantic Pretense, though I vastly prefer Romi." Don't even get her started on her given name--her family had always been the kind to live outside their means, right down to naming their children ridiculous, pretentious names. Her parents would call her nothing short of Romantic Pretense--Venus was the one who had given her the nickname. It pained Romi to even say the name, but she didn't think she could ever give it up, even if it meant hearing the other mare's shrill laugh every time it was used. "Romantic Pretense?" she had chimed nearly two years ago. "I'm the damn princess and even my father wasn't so silver-tongued upon naming me." Their names for each other, Romi and V, told of their child-like love. Romantic Pretense and Venus were never meant to be.

The thought made her want to throw herself to the ground--her typical reaction to memories of what was now her past life. She brought her mind back to the kind mare before her. 

"I was only hoping you could tell me where I am."

 

Romantic Pretense

Where does the good go?

(sorry this took so long, I wrote a whole reply and it somehow got deleted. This one might be a bit short.)

Fair enough. The camaraderie between women was limitless but like anything else, they came with their challenges. Romi was the last person who could deny that. The idea intrigued her, though. As far as she had learned in her short life, mares weren't rulers. She didn't know why but they simply weren't. To capture a kingdom and rule it alone required a great deal of moxie and independence, something Romi wasn't entirely sure she had. After all, the most rebellious she had ever been at home (besides falling in love with the king's daughter) was wandering a few yards too far from her mother as a filly. What would her parents think now that she was considering asking to be allowed into a bonafide girl gang?

Of course, there were stallions. It makes enough sense that there would be. While Romi would be happy living an entirely female existence, twas not the position of most mares in the world. She was, as far as anyone had ever told her, a mutant, a witch, a deviant. It didn't bother her all that much but it certainly seemed to irk those around her. For those reasons, she didn't intend to be shouting it from the rooftops in this new land any time soon. It would come out in due time. Or maybe it wouldn't. 

She wondered what the Amazonian mares were like. All kind and welcoming like Malka had proved herself to be? The name lent itself to a pack of warriors, and their status as a ruling class in the jungle must be difficult to maintain. No doubt they were strong willed and clever. 

"I don't suppose you're looking for new residents," she began thinking out loud. "As I'm sure you can tell, I don't exactly have anywhere to sleep tonight." Night was hours away, but she was still starkly aware of her predicament. While they had been talking the sun had risen further and dawn had broken, a warm light now reaching the tops of the trees and flooding the field. Sure, she had time to explore her options and find somewhere to go. But she was starting to feel like this was where she wanted to be--if they'd have her, of course. 

Romantic Pretense

Where does the good go?