She feels … adrift.
Even though she’s lived in the Deserts since Ironfire’s birth four years ago, the place has yet to feel like home to her.
She lives here, but she’s an outsider. A stranger to the many other horses that do call this place home. The only ones that ever do pay her any attention are her own children, but even they tend to avoid her in the end.
She knows why. Despite the years that have grown between her and her time with Lena, the girl still continues to weigh heavily on her mind. She thinks of the girl everyday, hoping beyond hope that Lena, wherever she is (was she even real?) is doing alright, that she's happy, that she and her mom managed to find a new home. There’s no way that she’ll ever know of course, but she can’t help but hope. Even though she knows how bleak their situation had been …
She’s tried to find distractions, in her children, in the embrace of lustful stallions … but even now, with her belly ripe and fat from the child within, she thinks of Lena and feels … lost.
The faerie’s trial had broken her in ways that she still can’t even hope to understand.
When the time comes for birth, she hides herself away in shade of a tree at the tiniest oasis, just as she had with her other three Desert children (Ironfire, Rosalee, Skyy … where are they now?). The process itself is quick and easy - she’s used to it by now - and in under an hour a damp little bundle lies in the sand at her side. She stands and moves to the child, a faint smile crossing her face when she sees that it’s a girl, and her coat is a beautiful, dark shade of green. She cleans off the mess then nuzzles at the child, trying to encourage her to stand. “Circinae. Come on sweetie, up on your feet.” She has no doubt that, in the end, Circinae will abandon her too. But she might as well enjoy this time while she can.
syl
when you think of love do you think of pain?
@[Lupei]