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I see the fear in the filly’s eyes. She speaks and I cock my head slightly to the left. My place? It takes me a moment to realize she means my territory. I shake my head. “This isn’t my place.” I respond, “Even if this place was ‘mine’, I’d find no reason wrong with you being here.” I say matter-of-factly. Children aren’t necessarily harmless, so I make no notion of moving away from her when she comes closer, even if is a threat it would take but a moment before she would be drowning in her own blood. I know how to use my horn, and this little filly has nothing to defend herself with. Unless she has some kind of magic I am oblivious about, but for now that isn’t a concern to me, she is relatively harmless it seems.
Then she speaks of her mother, and how she abandoned her. My ears swivel back and I think of my own mother. She hadn’t ever been a constant presence, she would come into my life, earn my affections and then leave. Part of me feels a bit of empathy for the child, but the other part of me feels utter rage toward the mother that had abandoned her child. This mare is unworthy to be called a mother. Leaving such a young child alone within this harsh world is even cruel in my eyes. I know that it is most likely evident on my face, but I force down my rage for the little one’s sake. I may as well let her have her innocence as long as possible. Already I fear what can happen to this child. She will face the world alone, just like myself. I had no in my life as a child to protect me. I was shaped by the agonizing tortures of this world.
“Your mother left you all by yourself?” I say, empathy pouring into my words. Wait, do I actually sound kind? What is going inside of me? I am the unbreakable heart. The one that kills without batting an eye and here I am, feeling sorry for a child. I should leave now, forgetting I had ever encountered this child, push her into the back of my mind and never see her again. But instead, I stay.
She raises her little head and flutters her eyelashes. So, Abishia is her name. I commit the name to memory, just in case this filly proves to be an enemy in the future, or if I am ever to encounter her again. But I also trap it within my mind so I don’t forget her. A young one that was abandoned just like me.“You know Abisha, my mother left me to.” I say. Unsure as to why I am, but there seems to be nothing wrong saying this. “She was too busy pursuing lovers to care about her own child.” Acid seeps into my voice. The filly doesn’t need to witness my long-held grudges. The whole purpose of my statement was to let her know I understand.
“I know how it feels to be left alone by your mother. How scary it can be… But most of all I know how sad it can make you feel,” I say, my voice soft and gentle. It has been years since my voice has sounded this way, and I can feel my facial expression soften as well.
"blah blah blah."
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