She relives the horror over and over in a heap on the forest floor. He led her to an obviously pre-scoped small clearing, stringing her along with the promise of heading home, distracting her with nature’s beauty. Like a panther he attacked quickly and fiercely, his teeth on her flesh and his body relentlessly crashing into hers. She fought, with all her strength, screaming for help. But his body was too close for her back legs to get the momentum to strike hard enough. Her efforts only gave him strength, despite drawing blood, and eventually she tired until she could barely stand. Her panic and fear turning to horror and dread and finally grief. Her innocence ripped from her in one painful mistake. She blamed herself, as if it was somehow her fault or she had led him on, as victims usually do. And he left just as quickly as he pounced, leaving her a destroyed shell of her former self. When he left, she collapsed on the ground, tears staining her honey-hued cheeks, suicidal thoughts running through her mind.
Eventually the tears stopped and the emotional pain numbed enough to allow logical thinking. Her joints ached from being bent beneath her weight, the muscles in her neck, shoulders, back and hindquarters agonizingly stiff from the fighting, as well as stinging bite and kick marks and a sweaty hide were inescapable proof of the event that happened. Time ticked by slow as a slug as she lay there for who knows how long feeling sorry for herself and wanting the relief of death before she finally gathered herself up. Her knees cracking as she painfully outstretched them to support her frame, her hind legs collecting beneath and pushing off the ground to lift her body. She groaned in anguish, unstable on all fours.
Now where? She craved the security of home but she was so ashamed she didn’t feel worthy. She stood there again for quite some time, debating with herself. Eventually she decided to be a grown-ass woman and take responsibility for the past. She couldn’t go back and change it no matter how badly she wanted to. She feared the devil spawn was growing inside her and her pity turned to anger and spite. She’d kill the foal if she had to.
Moving under the cover of darkness, spooking at every rustle, she reluctantly made her way back home, resolving there was no other option. Crossing the border into the Falls her relief was equally met with shame, she tried to slip in unnoticed. Eventually her swelling belly would invoke questions she wasn’t sure how to answer. She could have made her way to the healing waters but she refused to let them take away the reminder of her mistake. The pain tethered her to reality, and the physical torture was a distraction from the emotional turmoil. She did however take advantage of the moisture-rich emerald. Ripping blades with ferocity that a starving animal does.
Credit Image stock (starrlightstarbright.dA)/ Artist (Vita)