02-22-2018, 05:39 PM
The wind carried her scent towards her before the other mare made her presence known. She was close, almost too close to offer any real comfort. The bruises that marked Nymf’s body told the tale of the trauma she had faced. She was no worrier, if she had been maybe she could have prevented the tragedy that stole them away from her.
Lazily she rolled her blue eyes to regard the relaxed woman. She was farther from the cliffs edge, probably a smart decision. Nymf was interested in what was ‘smart’. Another clap of thunder sounded from the distance – closer than before. The storm was moving. She knew that she should seek shelter, but the thought rose bile to sting her throat. Why? What was the point of preserving her life? There was nothing left for her in Beqanna.
When the stranger spoke Nymf’s skin lit on fire. Her tone was low and the wind caught it making it almost impossible to decipher her words. Yet, Nymf understood all the same. She ruffled the feathers of her wings impatiently as she gazed back towards the rocky landing below. Yes, if she pinned her wings it would be over faster than the blinking of an eye. The wind would act as encouragement towards her purpose, a nod of approval. For a moment she imagined their faces, that of the man she loved and the child that she never had the chance to know. They were waiting for her, she could almost see them smiling from the sand below.
Then came the question that reeled the winged mare back to reality. What had happened to her? It was hard to tell. There was fear, followed by running and pain. A great pain that shot through her like lightning.
”He’s gone,” she rasped then shuddered. The choking sob crept higher, almost free of her control. She wanted to cry – to scream, but she remained silent. Stilled against the weight of her grief.
Lazily she rolled her blue eyes to regard the relaxed woman. She was farther from the cliffs edge, probably a smart decision. Nymf was interested in what was ‘smart’. Another clap of thunder sounded from the distance – closer than before. The storm was moving. She knew that she should seek shelter, but the thought rose bile to sting her throat. Why? What was the point of preserving her life? There was nothing left for her in Beqanna.
When the stranger spoke Nymf’s skin lit on fire. Her tone was low and the wind caught it making it almost impossible to decipher her words. Yet, Nymf understood all the same. She ruffled the feathers of her wings impatiently as she gazed back towards the rocky landing below. Yes, if she pinned her wings it would be over faster than the blinking of an eye. The wind would act as encouragement towards her purpose, a nod of approval. For a moment she imagined their faces, that of the man she loved and the child that she never had the chance to know. They were waiting for her, she could almost see them smiling from the sand below.
Then came the question that reeled the winged mare back to reality. What had happened to her? It was hard to tell. There was fear, followed by running and pain. A great pain that shot through her like lightning.
”He’s gone,” she rasped then shuddered. The choking sob crept higher, almost free of her control. She wanted to cry – to scream, but she remained silent. Stilled against the weight of her grief.