minette
For a few glorious moments after she escaped Minette thought she might try to reclaim her life. When her tears abated, she let herself imagine what true freedom would taste like. But her daughter is still living, and as long as she is, the flea-bitten gray mare will stay with Gryffen to ensure that Sette is free. With a sinking heart, Min cautiously makes her way home to the mountains, passing first through the Chamber.
She does not expect to see Gryffen for some time. In her flight from the dark god's lair she saw the smoke and heard the screams, and knew that it was the white wolf at work. She is surprised she can be afraid of him at all. It's a dim fear, swallowed up in weariness from her time below the earth.
The pine trees rise far above her head. There is a sulfuric breeze that chills more than cools. An unsettling tha-thump tha-thump disturbs the ground beneath her hooves, and Minette wonders how anyone can love this place. Her hazy thoughts are interrupted by a small gathering of horses, one of whom she recognizes. Dread slips through her body but she forces herself to keep moving. There is no avoiding her fate.
As she gets closer, about ten feet away, she sees who she believes is the raven queen (having only Gryffen's description to go off of), and a mare and her foal. It is evident from the way they are standing that something is wrong. Gryffen is gloating and triumphant, energy barely contained beneath his white coat and Straia is collected and cruel. The unknown mare cowers, and Minette hears the last of the raven queen's words to her. Enough to know that this other mare is also a queen, albeit a captured one.
Minette's brown eyes widen, and despite the horrors she has endured, she finds she is still able to be shocked by the depravity of the world. She casts a long look at Gryffen.
“What have you done?” Minette whispers, before she can think.
Futile anger and fear wrestle across her features. She is wiser, perhaps, although no less vulnerable after her time in Carnage's lair. Her rebellion is quelled but not lost, and she has found a steadiness amongst her tribulation. She is delicate, tiny compared to most horses, a brand crusted with blood visible on her left haunch. With every step she takes, the joints in her legs ache like they are being slowly turned to ash. Minette is still not used to this curse from the dark god, and it shows in the stiff way she moves. In time she will manage to disguise her infirmity, although she will never be rid of it.
She does not mind. Each ache she feels is punishment for the part she played in Not-Minette's death, for her unspoken desires for the dark god's touch. She deserves no less.
“Hello.” Minette says softly, her gentle greeting aimed at the disfigured mare and her starry child. She knows there is little she can do to alter the course of their future, but she is willing to do what she can.
For the queen and the wolf, she has no more words.