I see a golden kissed coat still shimmering despite the setting sun beginning to dive into the forest, her face familiar yet not placeable. I itch the side of my nose on my leg before rising as she begins to find her way into my company. It isn’t until I stand that I realize the feminine perfume that rises from her presence is eerily memorable.
Her voice lifts into the air erupting the silence in a joyful tune, how have you been. It takes a minute, maybe two before my mind places the name Cress. I hardly remember our interaction prior, how old must I have been?
“Cress,” I nod, giving a rough shake that vibrates from the tip of my nose till the end of my hindquarters, dust lifting off. “It’s been awhile”.
I see her, I see her desperately wish to remember. I can feel it, and I hesitate to watch her disappointment when she realizes my memory is not as crisp as hers. I hate watching women sulk, their emotions as thick as the dirt on my coat. I nearly hold my breath waiting for her response.
“I have been well,” I lie, not wanting to dip into the details of where I was or what I was doing. Why bombard her with broken stories and blackened memories? Why relive the past few years in the shadows?
“But, you? You seem to be doing well,” I nod as my eyes scan over her palomino coat, obvious that she had barred children.
DALTEN
THERE IS SOMEONE OUT THERE WITH A WOUND IN THE EXACT SHAPE OF YOUR WORDS
@[Cress]