The sun shines dimly through the mist. Everywhere is silence. Even the ravens have ceased chattering, their coal black eyes watching, ever watching. Minette despises them. She dreams of ravens, and wakes to ravens, black feathers the consistent nightmare in her life. Ravens and the white wolf.
It has only been a few days since Minette's rebellion has been quelled. She is bruised, and exhausted. Every sound sends her ears flying backwards and her head low. Each time she is certain Gryffen is returning to end her life.
But no, she thinks bitterly on the third day, the greater punishment is to let me live.
The gray speckled mare has almost settled into a routine of reculsivity when her master reappears.
He finds her lying amongst the crags, the cold water of the creek lapping against her side. The iciness is almost unbearable, but after awhile, she has found, it will numb her pain. He waits, like the patient predator he is, until she notices his arrival.
Her eyes widen with surprise, and then fear, and she finds she cannot move though she longs to flee. He is pleased, but not fully satisfied. She would learn the meaning of submission to a greater will. And he would get his daughter back in the meantime.
“Did you think I was through with you, little minnow?”
He curls his lip, a snarl laced through his words. Minette shivers, her muscles tightening in anticipation of his hooves connecting with her body once more. She closes her eyes.
Silence. Steady hoofbeats. A sharp nip on her ear. “Up.”
She obeys stiffly, clambering to her feet with little grace. Minette can feel the warmth of his body against hers. The stench of his breath heats her skin as he caresses her shoulder, delicately, so gently Minette is sure she is hallucinating.
“Gryffen...?” Her voice is shaky, uncertain.
His eyes flash towards hers, and a strange sound issues form his mouth. It takes her a moment to realize that he is laughing, a deep throated sound that chills her more than any touch he has laid upon her. He continues his gentle exploration of her body, an action more invasive than lover like.
“Just committing your luscious body to memory so I will be able to recognize you when you return home. I still want that son from you.”
Terror grips her chest. “I... I'm leaving? Where-where am I going?”
“Oh, don't you worry about that, minnow. You'll always return to me.”
Another smile. Another smirk. He stomps his feet and pushes her forward. Minette's feeble protest is met with a harsh bite on her rump. She hurtles forward, whinnying sharply.
Every step of their long walk only serves to strengthen Minette's fear. She suspects that is the white stallion's aim, the secret behind his silence, but knowing does not allay her worries. Gryffen does not let her stop, but nor does he strike her again. It is almost as if he is saving her, preserving the expanse of her flesh for the right moment.
Or the right punisher.
His slinks behind her, his amusement and satisfaction seeming to grow with each mile they cover. In the distance, Minette thinks she hears the howl of a wolf. But it all wrong for a wolf, both higher pitched and deeper toned than any predator she has heard before. A question plays on the edge of her lips, but she bites it back. She will not give her captor the satisfaction.
Morning has come and gone, and afternoon's shadows are lengthening. There is a scar in the earth ahead, a great opening that reeks of anguish and despair, echoing a mournful wail that grows louder with every step they take. Gryffen becomes harsher, more relentless, spurring the delicate mare closer and closer to the cave. He halts only when her hooves have just crossed the threshhold. She rears, slipping backwards, only to be forcefully pushed back into the mouth of the lair.
“Oh no, little minnow. This is our stop. You see, I don't feel you are sufficiently punished for your actions. Perhaps after this, you will know better than to fuck with me.”
“Gryffen, please.” she chokes out, her eyes wild with panic.
He says nothing, only blocks her way patiently, and cruelly, until Minette finally gives in. Her shoulders slump. She allows herself to be herded forward so that her only path is the one underground.
“I leave her here for you, dark god.” Gryffen's red eyes glow and his voice rings out. A cruel smile crosses his features. “Return the bitch in whatever condition you like.”
An icy wind emanates from the cave's opening. Dimly, Minette can make out shapes. She finds herself hoping that her eyes will not show her what her heart suspects is there. The white wolf paces at her heels.
She takes a step forward and then another, until darkness envelops her.