10-27-2024, 08:03 AM
Some company sounds nice, the other mare agrees. Myrna listen as she explains she has been on her own for nearly a year, and at that the palomino’s brows raise. Being alone for most of her pregnancy, especially toward the end, is an impressive feat. Now is not the time for compliments though, as Cascadia’s expression makes it clear she is thinking of those same dangers that she had to face. Myrna, with her own history, knows better than to dwell too long on such dark thoughts.
Instead, Myrna thinks of her own children as she waits until Cascadia looks back, and then smiles at her acceptance of Myrna’s offer.
The child’s reluctance to wake and join them elicits a soft laugh, as familiar as she is with such behavior. Her son Ravin is nearly impossible to rouse from slumber, but his twin sister Luvi wakes at the slightest noise, even from a deep sleep.
“Hello Wynters,” she says, when the foal is awake enough and standing. “My name is Myrna.” She does her best to remain still, not wanting to startle the very young foal. Now that the little filly is standing, Myrna can see that she is even younger than she’d first thought. Once more she glances over toward Cascadia, impressed that a mare so recently foaled and without company remains on her own feet.
She’d told her children that she’d be back by nightfall, but it had been with the intent of returning well before that. With Cascadia and young Wynters in tow, Myrna realizes that a dusk arrival is likely accurate. The path to her home is not an arduous one, but any distance is difficult on young tired hooves.
“We’ll have to cross the River here,” she says as she looks once more toward the mother. “It’s shallow this time of year, and shallowest up here farther from the sea. Then we can just follow the shoreline to the Gates.” A more direct path would be through the heart of the Forest, Myrna knows, but has no desire to brave the darkness there.
The palomino mare glances west, toward home, then back to Cascadia for a response before preparing to lead the way there.
Instead, Myrna thinks of her own children as she waits until Cascadia looks back, and then smiles at her acceptance of Myrna’s offer.
The child’s reluctance to wake and join them elicits a soft laugh, as familiar as she is with such behavior. Her son Ravin is nearly impossible to rouse from slumber, but his twin sister Luvi wakes at the slightest noise, even from a deep sleep.
“Hello Wynters,” she says, when the foal is awake enough and standing. “My name is Myrna.” She does her best to remain still, not wanting to startle the very young foal. Now that the little filly is standing, Myrna can see that she is even younger than she’d first thought. Once more she glances over toward Cascadia, impressed that a mare so recently foaled and without company remains on her own feet.
She’d told her children that she’d be back by nightfall, but it had been with the intent of returning well before that. With Cascadia and young Wynters in tow, Myrna realizes that a dusk arrival is likely accurate. The path to her home is not an arduous one, but any distance is difficult on young tired hooves.
“We’ll have to cross the River here,” she says as she looks once more toward the mother. “It’s shallow this time of year, and shallowest up here farther from the sea. Then we can just follow the shoreline to the Gates.” A more direct path would be through the heart of the Forest, Myrna knows, but has no desire to brave the darkness there.
The palomino mare glances west, toward home, then back to Cascadia for a response before preparing to lead the way there.