Deep down, my lax gut constricts like a tightened noose – those words slip over me with the sting of a lash; they make me flinch with sympathy and pity in the wake of his callus reply. The smog of grief appears, mushrooming until I’m consumed. Weighted, my head sinks, the cords in my neck tighten while these ears flatten into their shell. Frowning, I graze over that unbidden memory of a beloved parent I’d spent the majority of this life looking for. Stormy optics rise from the group, following Banjo’s retreat with pained sadness. He didn’t know…couldn’t know. In my distraction, that previous connection snaps like a brittle twig. I’d looked away by the time he's settled, already pulled my attention  while straightening those anguished lines.

The best facade of neutrality, is silence itself.

Perhaps over time, I would come to expect that my companion intends to speak his mind openly; regardless of the situation or who might be involved. But his two cents on this particular matter is as honest, as it is cruel.

Regardless...I find the distraction of further arrivals a welcome thing; their following host now includes another child, barely on the cusp of being weaned and a mare closely followed by an older stallion. Out of those that came, it was the unadorned male who drew my eye. A silver strand begins to reach, warmly, tentatively finding his mind amid the horde. I’d almost reached him…but then he shouldered his way to the center, without so much as a glance to me (or anyone else.) Surprised...the link fades without ever sealing a bond; he leaves me to assume...mulling over my wounded pride while heat floods these lavender cheeks.

Breathing out, avoiding his gaze (and others); a cool line of silent indifference becomes the perfect mask to chill my resolve.

The bite of being so easily forgettable is more grave an insult than being blunt.

Am I forgotten by everyone like that?

Meanwhile, the calf whimpers on -- bleating nervously. Masses continue to nudge in, their bodies are warm, sweaty in some instances. I feel those little knots in my throat grow larger. My hindquarters begin to tremble. Cautiously, these limbs shuffle a step in reverse to distance myself from the group. Sadly, out of those who gather, not a single parent arrives to claim even one from this collection of youth. The infant speaks; his squeaky voice is clear despite wavering in the wake of fresh tears. I draw a blank in regards to the landmark said babe describes. But there would be others who'd have a better idea of where such a thing was. Maybe I could help in another way, someone would need to stay behind, help the little ones. More silver strands form to accommodate the surplus of individuals, my magic aims to correct links within the group. It's to those hive of minds that my quiet voice rises from within, “I don’t mind staying with him -- if others want to go look,” dual pools sink to the bull calf. I sever all other links except his, “If that is alright with you?” Tender warmth trails into the bond, sharing my placid nature and quiet strength. In that same instance, I attempt to give him the only gift in my possession – memories…of having enough, of being content. Of being loved. Perhaps it would comfort and strengthen him. Just as it did me.

OCC: Sielu can only speak with her mind. Not out loud!