good at goodbyes
The fillies were moving now, growing in confidence with every passing moment. Mosrael’s eyes catch upon the sight of her first born. She imagined that the filly looked much like she did when she’d just been born, only her purple spots were more akin to her father’s shade of lavender. Still, there was no denying that the eldest belonged to her. She carried the classic look of Galilee, her grandmother. The smaller filly, however, could easily pass as any mare’s child. Although an appaloosa, like herself, she had no spots upon her snowcapped blanket and her mane matched her father’s coat almost perfectly. She was a beautiful rarity and, for a moment Mosrael found herself stunned that she could produce something so utterly perfect.
Continuously guiltless, Mosrael’s eyes snapped back upon Klaudius – only to find his eyes far away. Studiously, she searches them hoping to find some truth buried deep within his irises. He wants her there, she does not doubt that, but why? Was it because she was convenient? Without her, keeping the foals alive would become a struggle. He would have to find a wet-nurse, someone willing to provide nutrition to them. Perhaps he could set another of his whores to the task? It was no worry of hers, she knew how their conversation would end. Anything less would label her as a weakling.
When she speaks a thrill of satisfaction runs through her. She is not mine…
”So what am I to you?” She demands bitterly. ”I will not be someone’s second choice. Not even yours, Klaudius.”
The defeat in his eyes is tangible and the force of its truth stings deep within her. He did not want her, she’d already known that. She was nothing to him but another notch in his belt and she was disgusted with herself. Yes, leaving would be easier than the life of constant denial. She saw him for what he was and she did not want him.
@[Klaudius]