Tears don’t come. Shouldn’t they come? When Svetlana had been stolen, Nayati had been frantic. Rushing about trying to find where she had gone, believing her to have disappeared on purpose. After all why would Svetlana, a magnificent mare in Nayati’s eyes, want a tiny broken doll like Nayati? She’d split open her scars that day, and Romani had found her dazed and crying her eyes out, bleeding on the floor of her home. So why, why wouldn’t the tears come now? It seemed that all she had left of Svetlana were small, beautiful memories. Nothing substantial, not any longer. Chest heaved with a few sobs, but they were sporadic and small. She had cried herself out, draining nearly all her energy in trying to refuse to acknowledge that Svetlana would not be returning this time.
So lost in her thoughts, the cinnamon spotted filly was oblivious to the approach of a mare she did not know. Ruby eyes stared down at her hooves, tiny and pure white against the brilliance of the emerald that seemed to infest the Foothills. Words were all that drew her listeners, flickering towards the sound. Small head drew up in return, looking slightly over her shoulder at the coal coated femme. Her eyes were mixed with conflicting emotions. Nayati could only discern anger, but it didn’t seem to be directed at her. Even if it had, Nayati was too numb to care. Hopeless gaze remained on the mare’s cold, impassive face. Words slowly building, as if it took time to even gather her thoughts. ”Svetlana is dead…she was…” Throat worked hard for a moment and eyes flickered briefly before Nayati controlled herself and closed her eyes briefly. ”She was like my mommy. Now…now I dunno…I dunno what to do…” Voice choking up in tiny, childish despair. Hardly a whimper. Fragile body sagged and she turned to face Insanity fully. It was only polite after all. ”I…I’m Nayati,” she whispered weakly, dully. Like speaking her name was of no importance. It was as if she had no more spirit left, it had to heal and rebuild itself before she could ever feel the same again. Such a beautiful day, and yet innocent eyes were blind to it. Focusing only on the cold mask that the ebony female wore, feeling as if she had been slowly frosted from the inside out, unable to feel until it thawed out. Shock, she supposed.
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