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05-29-2014, 09:18 PM
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Ophelia the Forsaken
Ophelia did not expect touch, not from a stallion who had rebuffed her physical kindness earlier. So when the whiskers on his muzzle brushed her shoulder, she looked at him with furrowed, confused brows, turning her head back down to look at him and completely forsaking her admiration of the colorful ceiling. Her darkened heart was suspicious of his kindness. Too often she had been taken advantage of, her friendship squandered and abused. Too often she had been abandoned by those she loved, betrayed by those she trusted. Forsaken. The white hairs still tingled where he had touched her, and she gazed into his deep, blues eyes with her guarded expression, not sure if she could emotionally make this leap of faith. Yet again, she was standing in the center of the scales her life was built around. A step one way, and she would be risking her heart again, and a step the other way would be to forge a deeper path down the lonely road of solitude. Reminders of pain kept her from stepping toward love, but the fear of being alone forever was paralyzing. So she stood on the precipice as always, dancing along the fine line in the middle of equine and unicorn, wrong and right, love and loneliness. This instant was much more meaningful than just a touch and an offer of help, for Ophelia. His words relieved her from making a decision right away, and she nodded slowly, feeling the rate of her heart and roar of pressure subside. Ophelia took a deep breath and smiled, appreciating his kindness. Perhaps he could help, if he was a wanderer too? "I am searching for a small, stout filly, pale with blue markings along her back and a jagged horn," she said finally, recalling Roskuld's appearance from memory flawless. She could picture the filly next to her now, breathing and grinning happily. With a blink, she was gone, fading back into the detailed tomes of her mind. "My daughter," she explained, frowning. How strange those words coming from her lips to the ears of a stranger. Too long had she been away, unwilling to face the reality of her situation. She was a poor excuse for a mother, indeed. "If you see her... tell her that I am looking for her?" |
 Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done. Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning. |
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