Life would be nothing without her daughters – and her mother before them, the one who taught her how to be a humble daughter and a powerful mother. She urges her lovelings along like her mother used to. Like her mother still does in her dreams and in the corners of her blurred vision. It is no strange thing to the freckled woman see the old bay mare, her coat no longer riddled with deep scars and no gray marring her bright mahogany coat; standing in her peripherals or walking beside her.
Emotion* is always in the background of her daughter’s life even from the afterlife. City does the same for her children, but among the living…so far. And it’s for her daughters that she seeks eternal life. Her mother has not left her, and any ancestors before her, they drift to and from – but they’re never here. You can see them, even talk to them, and in dreams they can weave the feeling of their warmth against you or the sound of their voice but a ghost is never truly there. Not enough – it is not enough. A cold breeze curls between them just before he speaks and her attention is brought back to him.
“It means leaving,” she looks down at the river, both horses watching what bit of sparkling waters they can see in the matte black. Her voice is as far away as her thoughts, no real life to them. It’s evident that his statement makes her mind turn and whirl behind her bright sulfur eyes. “..and decay – you leave and there is nothing but memories and carcass to show for it.” She knows it’s much deeper, but the surface of it gauges enough that the deeper things don’t mean much. She brings her eyes to sweep over him, “Have you no one you would leave behind?” the question came into her mind and out of her lips, meeting no sorting process beforehand. She knows the question is rather rude, even a bit intimate, she means to be neither but doesn’t mind him thinking one or the other either.
* Emotion (Emo) is her mother
@[kensley]
