This boy, so confused when he found her, is sprouting into something much braver and much greater (is that possible?). Their eyes connect briefly before he quietly lures her away toward the heart of the meadow where there is an increased congestion. Faces whir by and she tries to see them and identify them, but her eyes keep finding the boy. They adoringly drink in the sight of him and how he tries to bring familiarity back into her life when everything is so new, so strange. Despite the hurt thrumming in her veins Cerva manages a weak smile in gratitude of his efforts, but the softened lines of her face falter when she looks up to see Longear. Although their meeting had been brief Cerva latched onto the names and faces of everyone she met during her brief time in the Gates. Patrolling the border sated her need for social interaction.
Cerva recoils when she hears her name. Her muzzle buries into Devov’s mane for comfort and reassurance, but her nutmeg eyes placidly settle onto the mare as they meet for the first time since The Before. Her heart patters anxiously and her heartbeat is pounding in her ears, but she still hears her. ”Longear,” she murmurs into Devov’s crest, forgetting how it muffles sound. A last breath of him is drawn into her lungs for strength. Cerva is weak, too elusive for confrontation, and so simply leveling her eyes on the mare is enough to sap her of everything. The bitterness that has been festering squirms in her gut, but she can’t bring herself to be angry at the mother. They didn’t know each other well enough.
”I stayed in the Gates as the ground ripped apart and stitched itself back together,” she remembers hearing the roar of the world as it came to life and took revenge on itself. Her eyes had shut and her body trembled fearfully. She thought Death was unfurling its hand to pull her in. What life she thought she had left was going to end and those she cared for would never know what happened to her.
But she opened her eyes to an entirely new Beqanna instead.
”I’ve been here since,” she contemplates how she had missed the Gates congregating, how she had been left out, and if she had another moment to mull it over she may have let the anger burrow its way into her heart again. Alas, Longear’s attention diverts and so does Cerva’s. The frown that was deepening the edges of her face flickers away as her eyes sweep down to see the boy nestled to her side. ”This is Devov,” her voice is proud, her eyes alight, ”my son.” When she touches him again, the white bark of her blaze grazes his skin. She’s gentle, loving. ”He found me when I was alone,” she adds more darkly because the “family” in the Gates had left her.
They were the ones that left her alone.
Cerva