Caw
and ooh, don't you know, don't you know?
you brought a demon to the dark.
The world ended for her a long time ago and whatever happens now, whatever is, whatever will be, is of no concern to her. She doesn’t know what’s become of her children, or her lover, or anyone else she ever cared about—sometimes she wonders if they curse her name. Or if, by chance, they came to some understanding; someone, somewhere, acknowledged how much she hurt as a mother and how weak she was. How she couldn’t weather the storm, even for Virgo’s sake.
She hopes they moved on without her, often, she finds herself wishing they think her dead; let no one have searched for her, let them think she walked off into the waves and that her ribcage became home to shadowy little monsters ruling the depths.
The black mare slips through the woods, ignoring the branches and thorns that rake along her thin sides; she doesn’t mind the sting that follows, it doesn’t compare to the ache in her belly, anyway, and none of them ever quite match up to the aching in her chest.
Caw’s shifting skitters, her movements are janky while once they were fluid; merely morphing herself to fit between the trees or twisting and bending to round corners that might have been impossible for someone else, something else, feels painful to her now.
‘What broke me?’
It’s a thought that crosses her mind often, especially when she tries to remember her children—their sweet, soft little faces. She remembers them snuggling up to her at night, warm, safe, and loved; she remembers the blood and the screaming that came so vividly that she never realizes when she would start to scream herself. She would scream, and scream, and scream until she could no longer make sound and then her gentle sobbing would see her off to a sleep that was never restful.
When Caw appears from the treeline, she happens across Cordis by chance and even then, nearly misses her; her mind too caught up on ghosts, too haunted by the what-ifs and what might have been if she never allowed them out of her sight at all.
The glint of silver catches her by surprise, she comes to an abrupt halt and lifts her head to peer through her ragged forelock. “Lady Cordis,” the shapeshifter whispers softly, still sounding as if she is in awe despite the years that have passed. “It’s been a long time.”