@Oren
Andromake rests her head in the grass, eats at the sprouts of green that burst through the earth like shoots of memories. Here, she is like any other horse in her unremarkable form. At the back of her head she knows that at some point she will have to move on from this place; from this halcyon. Unluckily or not, her life did not end with her kin. It is her responsibility to carry on their blood now, to represent them.
A bird shoots through the sky above her and she raises her gaze. This far down, she cannot tell what type it is. Perhaps it is a heron, or a hawk. Maybe it will fly all the way home, to its chicks and its partner. It will gorge itself on good flesh and they will continue. Yes, go home. Andromake's ear twitches backwards as she considers its journey. It goes back in the direction that she has come. Some of the horses that she has seen have wings, and there are times that she feels jealousy. Although she is free, part of her knows that she will never taste true freedom as long as her hooves are still braced on the ground.
A movement snaps in her periphery and she shifts her face in their direction. Before her stands a yearling colt, a roan. He looks a little frazzled, a bit distracted. For a moment her stomach twists as she thinks of another from a long time ago. She remembers another colt, another time. She pushes it away and smiles at the young horse before her. "Hello, young man," she replies, her voice soft and calm. "I'm Andromake. Is anything the matter?" He holds himself nervously, and the maternal side of her urges her to protect him.
Image by Bailey Zindel
and troy came tumbling down
Andromake rests her head in the grass, eats at the sprouts of green that burst through the earth like shoots of memories. Here, she is like any other horse in her unremarkable form. At the back of her head she knows that at some point she will have to move on from this place; from this halcyon. Unluckily or not, her life did not end with her kin. It is her responsibility to carry on their blood now, to represent them.
A bird shoots through the sky above her and she raises her gaze. This far down, she cannot tell what type it is. Perhaps it is a heron, or a hawk. Maybe it will fly all the way home, to its chicks and its partner. It will gorge itself on good flesh and they will continue. Yes, go home. Andromake's ear twitches backwards as she considers its journey. It goes back in the direction that she has come. Some of the horses that she has seen have wings, and there are times that she feels jealousy. Although she is free, part of her knows that she will never taste true freedom as long as her hooves are still braced on the ground.
A movement snaps in her periphery and she shifts her face in their direction. Before her stands a yearling colt, a roan. He looks a little frazzled, a bit distracted. For a moment her stomach twists as she thinks of another from a long time ago. She remembers another colt, another time. She pushes it away and smiles at the young horse before her. "Hello, young man," she replies, her voice soft and calm. "I'm Andromake. Is anything the matter?" He holds himself nervously, and the maternal side of her urges her to protect him.
andromake
Image by Bailey Zindel