my kingdom come

I cannot fathom this safety, this comfort and warmth that never before have I known. I don't even think Sabre has been given this luxury of love and affection that children deserve— that we have both suffered in the quiet cold all of our foalhood. I wanted to stay here a while, to have this kind mare keep me safe— to have her hide me from Mother's wrath. But it couldn't happen, and eventually I would have to leave (or she would, it all depends), or else I'd face worse punishments than this.

And so she coos quietly, telling me that she will protect me from dangers, as she did with that animal. My eyes follow every movement of hers, and even though my head rang and cried from the temporary lack of oxygen, I still tried to observe. Even in this state of ruin, I carefully watch each action with an unsteady eye and tired mind— it served as a distraction from the blood clotting the wounds along my back and the throbbing in my sides.

She had been assessing my features, lingering a while on my eyes and ivory mask (maybe she recognizes that I've stolen it from Nymeria). It shouldn't be a surprise to me when she asks where the hue of my eyes come from— but my stomach tightens at the mention of Mother, an uncontrollable wail escaping me as I tremble before her mention. In all honesty, I do not know the answer as to why my eyes are the colour pink (I've never seen my father, I don't know what colour his eyes are), when Mother's are steel grey. I can feel the welling of a new wave of tears, streaming from my eyes while my mouth clamps shut at the idea of Mother. "A-ah du-dunno." I whisper, trying to find someplace to store my head, needing to frantically burrow it closer to the amber champagne figure where I felt safer.

The long awaited question came tumbling from her, and my body stiffens. I swallow the answer wholly, inhaling and exhaling rapidly as my panic rises. I had to answer somehow, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything other than disastrous syllables that add up to nothing. "Mmmm mmm aa." Is all that I can muster before my eyes widen and I pull my legs closer to my abdomen, hoping that Mother isn't lurking close enough to hear that I tattled on her— I'm sure I'll be dead if she had heard, especially because I was telling this all to a unicorn.

I didn't think about it, that this was the enemy I was seeking comfort in, that I was supposed to hate this mare's guts for simple being. But her kindness wavered my opinion, and I thought that maybe, just maybe— this mare could be exempt from my hatred. She had proved herself to me, and for that I am grateful. She could have left me here to be eaten, could have let me freeze to death or bleed out in the night— but instead she took time to care for me as a true mother should.

She performs a trick, deeming it 'cool' as white fire flickers along her lips, wispy alabaster flames dancing along her ebony maw and trailing towards me. I watch with my heart thundering in my throat as my pain begins to subside, stitching up my wounds with a magic touch. I want to cry out of worry, gratitude— maybe even because this was so funny to me— a unicorn helping out such an undeserving child like me. "Doesn't hurt." I laugh almost silently, shoulders shaking and a soft smile spreading over my face. "Thank you—" I murmur, looking up at the mare as she lets out a laugh, attempting to dispel the heavy air that clings to us.

"Talk."