01-10-2017, 12:15 AM
And she had given it all up for him. Given up her soul, her heart, her throne. She wanted him and only him forever and ever like the moon wanted the sun, chasing after and clutching at the last whispers of sun streaks in a humid evening sky.
But he had left.
He left her alone in the damp cave, waiting patiently for his return, his scent, his voice, his eyes. Anything! ANYTHING! But no no no. It was all in a fretful despair does the mare realize that he is not coming back. A fortnight passes ater their gentle love making before she accepts what it is to be. Marlyn had raised herself up, trimmed herself in the ugliness that was the brown river carp and returned once again into the hungry embrace of Beqanna.
Time passes painfully. It should have gotten easier but it does not.
The spotted woman stands amongst naked trees. They sway and dream all around her. Marlyn is silent as she listens to the small patter of fresh snowflakes that drift all around her, catching in her mane and tail like soft feathers. Her sides are extended with the child that grows in her. Each breath is labored more and more as the months have passed and she realizes what the stars have written for her. She is to be a mother to her child, to raise the babe with every ounce of strength and warmheartedness she had.
Her coat was thicker now, the light feathering of her hooves nearly touched the ground as winter has embraced her and the child with fierce possession. Marlyn currently nips at a few shards of grass beneath the white snow, foraging for nourishment-
Wait. What was that?
The scent -his scent- reaches her first. Amber eyes are keen and catch a glimpse of the ginger stallion as she raises her head. Hot, angry tears touch her eyes but she refuses to let them spill. Delicately carved features furrow like the very gray clouds that gather overhead and Marlyn wastes no time. "Ashley." His name is bitter and foreign on her tongue but she is not afraid. She had been a queen, she does not know fear, nor would she allow him to instill it in her. The spotted mare stands listening to the deafening silence of the snowfall, waiting for him to turn to see her. Would he run again? Work his magic and spirit away? She waits, watching from her place upon a small knoll, for his reaction or perhaps lack of one.
But he had left.
He left her alone in the damp cave, waiting patiently for his return, his scent, his voice, his eyes. Anything! ANYTHING! But no no no. It was all in a fretful despair does the mare realize that he is not coming back. A fortnight passes ater their gentle love making before she accepts what it is to be. Marlyn had raised herself up, trimmed herself in the ugliness that was the brown river carp and returned once again into the hungry embrace of Beqanna.
Time passes painfully. It should have gotten easier but it does not.
The spotted woman stands amongst naked trees. They sway and dream all around her. Marlyn is silent as she listens to the small patter of fresh snowflakes that drift all around her, catching in her mane and tail like soft feathers. Her sides are extended with the child that grows in her. Each breath is labored more and more as the months have passed and she realizes what the stars have written for her. She is to be a mother to her child, to raise the babe with every ounce of strength and warmheartedness she had.
Her coat was thicker now, the light feathering of her hooves nearly touched the ground as winter has embraced her and the child with fierce possession. Marlyn currently nips at a few shards of grass beneath the white snow, foraging for nourishment-
Wait. What was that?
The scent -his scent- reaches her first. Amber eyes are keen and catch a glimpse of the ginger stallion as she raises her head. Hot, angry tears touch her eyes but she refuses to let them spill. Delicately carved features furrow like the very gray clouds that gather overhead and Marlyn wastes no time. "Ashley." His name is bitter and foreign on her tongue but she is not afraid. She had been a queen, she does not know fear, nor would she allow him to instill it in her. The spotted mare stands listening to the deafening silence of the snowfall, waiting for him to turn to see her. Would he run again? Work his magic and spirit away? She waits, watching from her place upon a small knoll, for his reaction or perhaps lack of one.
MARLYN