my kingdom come

There's nothing more for Mother to say to me today, distant steel eyes sweeping away from my macabre features and into the distance— there's nothing more for me here. Her quiet mood is brought on by the disappearance of Sabre, her lack of presence in our homely forest bringing Mother to unspeakably low levels. Over just the past few days her temper has blown up in my face, and her solid hooves and blunt teeth strike relentlessly against my skin. All along my back are layers of open and healing wounds, creeping up my neck and scattering as they get closer to my face (at least Mother knows what's most important to me).

They sting with hollow love, with false ideals and precious familiarity— the comforting feeling of at least being noticed by my dam makes the wounds feel more like prizes or rewards rather than reminders that I'm jack shit not as wonderful as Mother wants me to be (I certainly think I'm pretty amazing). It feels gratifying to earn such wounds by the hands of my own mother, the woman I fear hate with all my being— yet love for all that she has done for me. She dutifully answers my questions, fed me and kept me in line (for the most part).

She turns away like there isn't blood staining her lips, like there isn't a fading hatred in her eyes and trembling limbs from over exertion. "Go on, I don't want to see you for a while." Mother doesn't even look back, moving with painful caution as my stomach lurches (am I feeling sympathetic?), I want to shout at her that she isn't the only one affected by the absence of Sabre— that she was my womb mate and I was hurt too by her unannounced leave, that I felt cold and empty with the loss. So I leave Mother to her sulking, letting her mourn the absence of her child in peace and isolation.

The first person who comes to mind who may be able to provide solace in this melancholic and quiet time is aunt Nym— surely I could find some form of comfort in my callous reflection, in the cold crimson eyes of my closest (relationship wise) relative. No one else in this god damn family (am I even allowed to call it that? I really don't know who else it consists of other than Volterra, Nymeria, Sabre, Zhu and I— Mother not included) who could provide me with any sort of support. Volterra would surely tell me to just "beat it out, just kick, bite, and fight out your feelings." But it wasn't anger that filled me up anymore, anger at Volterra for forgetting about his trivial affairs and leaving Sabre and I to a mother who cannot handle us (who hates us, loathes us for our imperfections). I'll seek out Nymeria eventually, hoping she'll let me bury my head into her clean breast and weep out my sorrows (the tears I've been holding in), that she'll listen to my words and provide guidance in this situation.

I take off towards a quiet location, running with my teeth grinding together and hooves thundering against the solid earth, back warm from the gentle Birdsong rays. I don't have a place in mind, guided only by the desperate need to get away from everything and everyone for a long while. I need this time, these few moments to reflect on all the shit that I've been getting lately— all the bad hands and shitty deals life has thrown my way. What have I done in my short span of existence to deserve this mess? Where in my life did I fuck up badly enough to have this sort of morbid reciprocation? Ivory framed nostrils flare and huff, thick legs working hard to keep me going at a steady pace. I stop to catch my breath, sides heaving as sweat begins to dribble down my coat and soak into my open cuts (that shit hurts).

"Talk."