all these voices in my head get loud
i wish that i could shut them out
i'm sorry that i let you down
There on the bank of the vast clear lake Anath trains her eyes on the warm glow of the approaching mare. That glow is vastly different from her sunlight, some of which now rolls over itself in a small sphere upon the black half of her breast. A second ago the filly had been preparing to approach strangers and ask them about the names and about angels. Now faced with an approaching adult she finds her heart tripping anxiously in her chest, but she does not move, only squares herself a little, planting her small hooves in the mud. From her small nostrils the breaths tumble in rapid succession.
A ring of amber crowns the mare’ s brow and Anath is puzzled by it, but does not stare too long. Instead she is distracted by the woman’s expression. Until this moment she has no memories of an adult looking at her with anything but indifference or irritation. She does not remember her own mother, whose beauty would have drawn her just as Ryatah’s does now. With only Gale and Mazikeen as points of reference, the peaceful kindness of this winged creature breaks over her like a plunging wave. A little tremor passes over Anath’s tri-colored frame. “I am…”
She stutters out, her brow pinching as she tries to find more of the steadiness that strengthened her voice when speaking with the Queen. “I am okay.” She doesn’t know what lying is, only that there seem to be right answers and wrong ones.
In her small voice she says, “I am looking for the angels.”
Then because she is disarmed by the kindness she confesses herself. “My name is Anath. I’m not allowed to be here.” A muscle jumps in her small jaw and the sunlight flares upon her chest, crawls up her shoulder and across her skin like the creeping edge of a flame. In all her sorrow and anxiety there is something steadfast and bold learning it’s way.
@Ryatah