RUSKE

        Though my first several months on Helovia had seen me wandering its boundaries, I had kept close to the World’s Edge in the succeeding months. Duty, perhaps, kept me rooted – or a need for duty. Purpose. I was quite aware, despite my attempts at helping, that little of my effort was actually necessary. I felt sometimes as if I still moved downward, sliding back past myself and all my previous endeavors. I grew accustomed to moving forward, as if attempting to outrun my own thoughts – busying myself. The sound of Kahlua’s voice in the distance brought a prickle of excitement to mind, though I did not immediately fathom the reason for her call. Perhaps she merely wished for company; if nothing else, I would become a face well known to the queen. Hopefully, a face well-thought of, too.

        I moved through the forest with a languid stride, familiar by now with the shape of the Edge. The call had come from somewhere near the border, in the gap between both sides of the shattered wall. It was without any sharp note of fear – instead gracious, joyful. I had come to associate such feelings with Kahlua, though I did not know much of her aside from that – she seemed to possess some zest for life, a brilliance I sorely lacked. Had always lacked. My eyes picked out the stark black and white of her frame from a distance, and lifting my shaggy head I answered back, my own voice rough with use and disuse, shivering from an ill-wrought chest. I slowed afterward to cough ungracefully, reminded of whatever ill still lingered in my lungs, scar tissue now, beyond the hope of healing.

        “Kahlua!” I greeted her more formally when I drew near enough, my tail swishing absently against my hocks. Out of the trees, on the cleaner ground near the border, the sun beat unpleasantly over my dark skin – but I strove to appear cheerful. My problems were my own; I sought to leave them behind in the presence of others. With interest, then, I lifted my gaze to the stranger at Kahlua’s side: an equine, pale cream and black. I noted at first a quietude in her presence, as if she were shy – reserved or overwhelmed – though perhaps she only chose to keep her feelings close at hand, beyond my sight. I nodded to her regardless, curiosity blinking unguarded over her frame. “Have you brought someone new?” I spoke to Kahlua, though I gazed still at the strange mare. She was surprisingly clean, not a stain of dirt on her hide, though the prominent edges of bones shot through here and there, leaning up unpleasantly. I was reminded of my own condition upon entering the Edge; one ear twisted back as I frowned, though mildly. It was a look of contemplation rather than unhappiness.

        “I am Ruske,” I introduced myself, “A nurse here in the Edge.” She carried no scent of the sea or the forest; I judged my first assumption correct. “Welcome. Have you been traveling long?”

NursE

world's edge