love is a temporary madness...
A fluffy layer of snow had fallen over the night, adding a newness, a freshness, to everything about her. Her bright bay head is lifted into the crisp air as she inhales deeply of the cold scent. Though the breath burns her lungs slightly, it does not halt her. Her dark forelock falls over her russet eyes, shadowing their depths briefly as she glances across the smooth, untouched expanse of the freshly lain snow. Her gaze catches upon a figure in the distance, and she smiles. She easily recognizes Iset’s small frame, a stark contrast against the paleness of the frozen Dale.
She starts forward eagerly, intent upon greeting her friend. She sees Weir then, approaching Iset, and she suppresses a knowing smile. The two had become thick as thieves since her arrival, and she suspected they might have a new addition to the Dale come springtime. It isn’t until she closes in upon the pair that she realizes that something is terribly wrong. The normally laid back stallion is tense, focused too intently upon the black mare before him. Though Weir never misses a word, she has never seen him that fixated upon any one thing before.
The smile slips from her lips, a furrow forming as concern hits her. She can see clearly now that Iset is terribly upset. The mare’s head is dipped low, expression filled with grief. Elysteria’s gut knots in worry as she approaches the two standing close together. She steps to Iset’s side, opposite of Weir, questioning concern in her warm russet gaze.
“Iset?”
She does not need to question any further however. She catches the last of her words to Weir and she knows her grief.
“Oh Iset.”
The words are soft, filled with sorrow. She knows only too well the pain of losing a child. Knows the unimaginable heartbreak of staring at a still, lifeless, perfect form, praying that a miracle would occur and knowing that it would not. She had been there, grief wracking her body just as it did now her friends. She knows no words are sufficient. She hopes that her very presence here is not an intrusion, understanding if it is. Offering the only thing that she possibly can, her comfort and support, she presses her dark muzzle against Iset’s shoulder softly, her grief and sorrow for her nearly tangible.
She starts forward eagerly, intent upon greeting her friend. She sees Weir then, approaching Iset, and she suppresses a knowing smile. The two had become thick as thieves since her arrival, and she suspected they might have a new addition to the Dale come springtime. It isn’t until she closes in upon the pair that she realizes that something is terribly wrong. The normally laid back stallion is tense, focused too intently upon the black mare before him. Though Weir never misses a word, she has never seen him that fixated upon any one thing before.
The smile slips from her lips, a furrow forming as concern hits her. She can see clearly now that Iset is terribly upset. The mare’s head is dipped low, expression filled with grief. Elysteria’s gut knots in worry as she approaches the two standing close together. She steps to Iset’s side, opposite of Weir, questioning concern in her warm russet gaze.
“Iset?”
She does not need to question any further however. She catches the last of her words to Weir and she knows her grief.
“Oh Iset.”
The words are soft, filled with sorrow. She knows only too well the pain of losing a child. Knows the unimaginable heartbreak of staring at a still, lifeless, perfect form, praying that a miracle would occur and knowing that it would not. She had been there, grief wracking her body just as it did now her friends. She knows no words are sufficient. She hopes that her very presence here is not an intrusion, understanding if it is. Offering the only thing that she possibly can, her comfort and support, she presses her dark muzzle against Iset’s shoulder softly, her grief and sorrow for her nearly tangible.
elysteria