and he told me i was holy;; cordis.

[elve]

it's strange what desire will make foolish people do.

She wondered once, very briefly, if she had so terribly wronged her mother by leaving that this life was her punishment. The thought was whisked away when he demanded something of her (he demands so much, without ordering her to do anything), but it comes back to her now as she stands here, eyes flitting from side to side, ears dancing in all directions, in case he is here, in case he has come to steal her away again (and he is here, but she cannot see him, cannot hear him - he is stalking her).

It is not long before she is approached; it never is, not with a coat of green-and-red-and-nothing. She knows that she is watched, she can feel eyes upon her, but only one horse - a mare, covered in silver and in lightning - moves towards her, with a gaze as empty and dark as a pit filled with bones.
The eyes are different, the body is different, the whole situation is different, but the filly tenses, preparing herself (though she does not know what she prepares herself for).

The mare’s voice is gentle, but not like a nurturing parent. No, it is the sweet softness of temptation, of promises; it pulls the filly closer despite her trembling limbs and her pounding heart.
It is the voice of persuasion.

She blinks up at the mare, slipping in and out of sight, but trying so hard to stay solid. She is asked if she is alone, and she cowers backwards, just an inch; he berated her, the first time, for being alone.
“I think so,” she replies (though what she really means is “I hope so”). And she looks up, expectant but nervous, because the last time she was found by a stranger she never managed to shake his grip.

ELVE