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10-10-2012, 07:34 PM
Pregnancy once again weighed me down. Perhaps what that brown bitch Korra had said was true, perhaps I was a wash-out, a weak link in our herd. We had failed, I had felt the chill of rejection seep through my bones. I was within the Edge when it all began, I had lingered on the outskirts, praying for victory. My precious cargo would not be put at risk, not so late in the game, when a single injury could mean the difference between life and death, for both myself and the new life within me that was planted by the ashen steed Cineviam. I followed the trail of blood, feeling the safety of holding rank within a herdland drip away from me as the mists turned us away. It is no surprise that here, upon this frozen tundra, I find my herd. Snow swirled around me, and I stand to the outskirts, unwilling to be noticed, unwillingly to face the shame that I feel for not defending my herd when they needed me. My son was a wandering soul, much like I had been for a time between when I left my birthland and found Helovia. He was seeking the company of another mare now, the nurse, Kou, I recalled from the previous meeting. I stand now, a few lengths away from him, praying he remembers me, even though it is only hours since we last glimpsed each other. My teats still held milk for him to drink, my pelt was thick with warm, down coat that would shelter him, if only he would choose my bodice to stand beside. I look to our King, forlorn, sad - and afraid. I fear what is to come, because I know not what it will be. I sigh, unable to find the spark within me to speak, to argue, to defend myself. Let them mock me, let them ridicule and hate me. The spawn I carried within me was for them, to help them grow. I would birth them the army they needed in order to win rights to our home once more. If only they would accept me. |
