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I HAVE BURNED MY TOMORROWS, AND I STAND INSIDE TODAY
At the edge of the future, and my dreams all fade away
Ophelia did not possess the will to mask her emotions behind her eyes at this time. She did not have the strength to make others feel safe and loved when her faith lay in shambles. To be honest, she was struggling with ever wanting to comfort another pathetic being like herself again. Better, she thought, that someone had bluntly told her that she would be abandoned or nearly killed by the stallions who had shown interest. Then, she would have been more prepared to have her soul crumble to her hooves. Cheer, though somewhere in the back of her mind, was appreciated, served as more of a reminder that happiness was forever out of her grasp. So, when the filly spoke, Ophelia leveled her strange, dual colored eyes and the small, spotted filly, orbs filled with pure anger and raw depression.
"All right..." she half whispered, her voice cracking from behind her lips. A mad smile crossed her features just then as a surge of pain squeezed her heart. "No, I am not, but such is fate." Ophelia recognized the familiar form of Tor approaching then, and she could not deny that her heart calmed a little upon seeing the white and grey spotted frame. The healer had been her friend from the beginning. She had told the draft secrets she had never imparted to anyone else besides her sister. Never once did Ophelia's trust in the mare fail, so the mad smile on her lips drifted, for a moment, into a pained one. Tor and Ophelia had always seemed to be of the same mind, wanting to heal and open of heart.
For the second time in a short time span, she had her perception of her loved ones get blatantly shredded before her eyes. Her heart beat dully in her chest, two toned eyes turning hard when Tor spoke. Ophelia did not dare to breathe or a laugh, more bitter than foxglove, would manically escape. Understand? How could she understand? Logically, sure, but emotionally, now? Perhaps the filly had arrived by fate, for Tor's attention shifted and Ophelia hitched a breath that she did well enough to hide behind a small cough. Her head was reeling, and she felt as if she were underwater. Certainly she was dreaming? All of this had to be a horrible, terrible nightmare.
Another stallion approached, and she focused on breathing, not able to even acknowledge his presence as her body struggled to contain the weight of her emotions. He wanted more company, and she wanted to tell him to fuck off. She wanted no more friends or company that would leave her like Tor or the Sun God. However, she held her tongue as Tinek's mind told her that he spied Comadre in the distance. Osiris was not entirely innocent in this drama that was her life, but he was unknowing and a good friend. She could not hold her own foolishness against the wolf. Tinek's crimson eyes widened when Comadre approached, and the silver remained perched on a tree, unable to do anything to help. Talons gripped the tree too tightly, and he was stiff as the limb on which he sat.
Osiris said what she was unable to speak, shouldered the pain she was feeling and honestly saying what rested on her heart. She finally exhaled a rough breath and looked up at Osiris with gratefulness hinting on the edges of her raw expression. A half-smile, shadowed, crossed her lips when Comadre said her name, and she nodded. "Comadre," she said quietly, letting the little black dragon know that she remembered. "Thank you, Osiris," she whispered soon after before leveling her hard gaze at Tor. "Just go," she told the mare, those two words holding the weight of her emotion.
The strange stallion, a handsome grullo, now sparked in her mind again, and she eyed him rather darkly though not unkindly. Ophelia could see the care-free joy so excitedly marked in his physical language and expression. When would that come crashing down for him? Soon, most likely. Nothing good could ever last long. Tinek waved back at Comadre, able to move now instead of being still as a silver stone. Quickly, the dragon swooped from his perch on the tree and landed on Ophelia's crest, staring between her ears at Comadre. Ophelia said nothing to the strange stallion, but she had enough politeness to nod her head in greeting. No matter what answer she gave to his question for company, it would be a lie. No, she wanted no one, but yes, she needed help.
Fate was cruel. The gods, even moreso.
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