The heat of the jungle feels strange on my skin, the closeness of the foliage stifling in comparison to the cool mountain home I come from. Where my past was craggy rocks and lands with beating hearts, my future is being shaped amongst the sisters. I had followed my aunt obediently the whole way, my little legs aching with the effort. I said not a word. Only my dark eyes showed the swirl of emotions I was feeling. Fear, for my future, grief, for leaving my family behind and a healthy dose of curiosity. The resiliency of youth was firmly on my side, and though the pain of leaving all I had known ached until I thought I would never escape it, time would ease the worst of the grief.
At the moment, it felt like my heart would never stop hurting.
Maman had told me very little, brushing away my myriad of questions with bright eyes and an encouraging smile. I was going on an adventure to a land where mares were in charge, she said. My Aunt Liz was very important and would look out for me. And most importantly, she'd said as she nuzzled the spot next to my ear, I must be very good and try not to think of her.
My young heart quailed at the thought but she had been quietly insistent.
You will have great opportunities before you, little one, and a new maman to watch over you. I love you too much to keep you here. And then she had watched us leave. My last sight of her was a pale ghostly form being swallowed by the mist, watched over by ravens.
I shivered at the memory, unconsciously pressing against my aunt's side. Her warmth wasn't the warmth of my mother but it was a small comfort. I bit back tears, concentrating on the path before us. I didn't think I would ever learn this place with all its twists and turns. I imagined I saw a black slinking form amongst the brush, and my ears shot forward, startled.
Aunt's question shifted my attention and I looked up at her, my voice shaky as I spoke.
"I'm tired, Aunt Liz." I nosed her side. "We're here, aren't we? I live here now… without maman or my father."
What am I to do without them? I wonder. My mother's words gently chastise me and I make an effort to obey as my aunt's call rings forth.
"Please, who are you calling for?"
daughter of Gryffen and Minette