11-12-2015, 09:45 AM
at dawn I woke in the rubbleKnee-deep in destruction I'd wrought
I’d suspected but been unable to confirm that I had actually made it to Beqanna, so when the grey stallion says as much I smile all the wider. Good, I think, I’ve made it. I nod in reply to his question – I’d meant both, but he elaborates, and I listen carefully. The Dale. The name sounds familiar, but I was never the most attentive child, and have forgotten most of the details of parent’s stories.
“My mother used to live in the Dale,” I tell him, because that much at least I am sure of. He hadn’t asked about tht though, and rather than elaborate I decide to wait until he says something more. I don’t want to irritate the first horse I’ve met.
I’m relieved to learn that the snow will melt eventually, and I look hopefully at the robin as though willing it to bring Spring a bit faster. I am ready for warmth and flowers and sunshine. He asks about me, and for a moment I hesitate. The place we lived had no name, it was simply a beach and a meadow and a forest, a secluded island where my parents remain. “Over the sea,” I say instead, “But my parents came from here, before.” I do not know how clear it is in my speech and actions that I am still young; I try so very hard to act like the adult that Father had said I was.
I turn at the sound of approaching hooves and see a mare, her movements elegant and her manner exceeding polite. “Oh hello!” I say, unconsciously straitening my shoulders in an attempt to look as poised as she does. “Ramiel was telling me about the Dale.” I explain, “Are you from the Dale too?”
