They are something and they are nothing. They are the scars that line their skin, like artwork, he had said. They were his pieces of beauty, where skin would bubble and flesh would rot, take away the outside, to see the glorious white bone beneath. He had been their creator, in a way that paintings were naked without a brush. They, the two of them, had been his blank canvas, and there, years, years and then some more, they had been multiple masterpieces.

Until now.

Lethea had forgotten, she had found it easy. To remember the sunshine against her eyes, yet not the pain as he dug into their flesh. Her dear sister, Mnemosine, she could not forget. It was her glass-like eyes that saw all, and still, saw all. They were two broken branches, from the same tree. One bent far more than the other. Their bay bodies, mottled with scars, broken by memories and stories. They were, they are, and yet, they walk together as though the world was not some picturesque autumn day. The twins walked with a strange glaze to their eye, their footfalls matching as they strolled side by side, their earth coloured frames knotting in with the burgundy and red leaves as they swirled about them in a myriad of colour. 

There were suspicions in Mnemosine's eyes, they were shrouded with a shadow, a memory that flashed even now, in her mind. Lethea, she was whimsical in the way her ebony mane fell across her face, became knots against the wind. Her eyes were as bright as the clear skies, and yet there was a faraway glass appeal, she wore a smile yet knew not what was worth smiling for. She had her sister, and her sister had her. And that was it, and that was all.

And that was all they needed, perhaps.

But the chill in the air, it promised a cold spell, whispered upon Jack Frost's frozen lips. the cold, Mnemosine could feel knit within her china-white bones. Lethea, the dear girl, she was spun by flower petals and delicate leaves. While her sister was the rigid bark that was seeming to hold the duo together. It was her, that had the idea for the two to enter the field. For a chance for something, anything. Her soft brown eyes watched her sister, a slight curve in her fine head kept her smooth in her striding, never breaking cadence with her twin.

'Where will we go?' Lethea asked, her tone a crackle in her parched throat, her dry lips breaking into a sliver of a smile as she gazed upon her sister. The bay twin shook her head, dishevelling ribbons of ebony, casting them across her face, hiding the shame, the disappointment of their scars, their stories. Oh, if only she could be as oblivious as her sister, perhaps she could find some peace. 

'Anywhere, anywhere will do, Lethea. Just not here. Not here at all. It is too open, far too open.' right now she did not fancy parading about the field, kicking up the fallen leaves. She would prefer to slink into the shadows, to hide, to forget. Oh, how she longed to forget, like her dear sister. Lethea outstretched her nose and touched her twin's neck, a soft caress, even with a rough muzzle. The touch seemed to quell Mnemosine's wrought nerves, if only for a moment. 

'We'll find somewhere. We'll find somewhere...' her words were soft spun silk, and yet her glass-eyes were glittering, shining with the want of tears. Tears for her twin, tears for the pain that mars her bay sister's face.

'I hope you're right. she swallowed, the lump felt like iron in her chest. Oh, she hoped she was right. She hoped indeed.

Lethea & Mnemosine

we are just misguided ghosts, travelling endlessly

The two are idle, mane ensnared by invisible fingers, the cold breeze taunts them in a way that reminds only one of them, of the horrors they had faced before. The cold, it feels like ice, penetrating healed wounds. Mnemosine looks at her sister from the corner of her eye, biting at her lip to stop the tremble, from the cold and from the frigid memory that feels like spears of ice digging into her skull. Sometimes she longs to be like Lethea, almost unforgiving in the way she forgets. the bay mare was adamant she had forgot because she needed to, not because she wanted to. He had done far more damage to her than he did Mnemosine. Perhaps that was why...

Lethea rocks on her hunches slightly, swaying in the breeze as though a lost, spare feather. She turns her head to her counterpart and whispers, 'Perhaps we'll find somewhere warm?' her tone is feathery, like the crunch of the broken leaves underfoot. Mnemosine sighs, the voice freezing in her throat. She did not know what to say, all that she was certain anywhere would be better than standing idle in the field, sitting ducks so to speak. She wanted to protect her sister from any more harm, and wanted to protect herself also, perhaps, if it was not too much to hope for, find a home for the two of them.

'Warm is good. Just keeping thinking of warmth. Sunshine and wildflowers.' she smiles, her lips reaching the corners of her mouth, tugging endlessly into what she hoped was a reassuring grin. Lethea nudged her bay sibling and shook her head. 'Sunshine and wildflowers, it's a bit late for that.' she snorts, a laugh betraying the sadness in her eyes as she finds the stranger first. 'Oh, hello.' she says, her voice faraway, a glimmer of hope finding her eye as she watched the blue roan with mild curiosity. Mnemosine was wary at first, ears pressing against her poll as she took a step forward, infront of her twin, a guarding flick of her plume against her hocks, and a slight arch of her neck. She was in no real shape to appear anymore frightening than some thorny rose, with the scars and the moth-eaten appearance they shared, it looked quite like they had stepped out of hell's gates itself.

'Winter is quite the promise it seems.' Mneomsine says, her eyes never leaving the steed, whilst her sister took a wayward step out from her vicinity. 'I'm Lethea and this is Mnemosine.' her smile is like glass, so fragile and easily shattered. Mnemosine shakes her head and offers a small smile. She was not that bad, and she supposed this man was not quite the hellion she had thought. He seemed pleasant enough, but like the rain in summer, it can often fall cold come evening...

'Shahrizai. It's nice to meet you.' she is the diplomatic one, she has known that since the two of them had entered the world. Lethea was the one who took chances and yet would forget the name of the very mother that bore them, and left them. Mnemosine wished she could be that flippant sometimes. 'I don't much care for winter.' Lethea's smile is blissful but her voice cracks and clips, as if near tears, but her eyes are as bright as the winter sun that beams above them. 'Too cold.' as if one cue her coat shivers against the cold breeze as it ensnares the pair once more, causing their ebony manes to fall like rivulets over their earth brown skin. 'How has your morning faired, Shahrizai?' 'Probably better than ours at least.'

Lethea & Mnemosine

we are just misguided ghosts, travelling endlessly

Mnemosine is plagued by the nightmares, haunted by his eyes ever following, his cruel touch ever scarring, manipulating her skin like his own clay to form a masterpiece. Haunted by these dreams she cannot help but feel the twang of nerves beneath her skin, taut and intertwining with one another like pieces of a puzzle. Her mind plays tricks upon her most of the time, when she gazes at her sister she sees far more than appears. Each scar marks a pattern, a map of the roads they had seem to travel, endlessly, the pair. Perhaps her fear had been misplaced for the few passing moments of silence, that the trio endure, but it is the fear that has held the two together, unable to all apart because of her, being the glue. And her sister, being one of the many broken pieces of their togetherness.

Lethea listens with tulip ears, they flutter gently in the cold, harsh breeze. Her skin peppers with gooseflesh, ebony tendrils whipping around her face as she feels the cold gnaw at her bones and then even deeper. She turns her gaze from her sister and takes a subtle step forward. Her eyes drawing up to meet Shahrizai with a soft, cocoa gaze. 'Oh, the cold is dreadful.' 'We've been travelling for quite some time, and thought we would have shelter from the winter soon enough. I suppose I thought wrong. Mnemosine's voice is lilting against the wind as she turns and nudges her sister, a wayward gesture that entices her sibling back a step or two. But her gaze never leaves the blue tinged steed, her eyes finding his lack of tail, quite haunting, slivers of memory she seems to capture with errant hands, but they slip from her fingers like feathers upon the harsh winter breeze. 'We both lost something too.' 'Lethea.. her sister warns with a cutting tone, but then is smooths to a soft velvet when she turns back to the steed, he is perhaps the light that has pierced through their darkness, if only for a few passing moments, giving them time to escape the shadow. 'The Deserts?' 'They sound so warm, so nice...' 'If you would allow us to accompany you there, perhaps our conversation will follow the sun and not be as... cold.' 'Oh, we are dreadfully frozen.' her smile is infectious as she gazes back to the steed, her eyes like glass, a mirror even, reflecting her lost, scarpering mind.

Lethea & Mnemosine

we are just misguided ghosts, travelling endlessly