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09-29-2016, 08:18 PM
Sohalia was already too deep into the forest when she smelled the blood. Abandon hope all ye who enter here. The thick, iron tang hung heavily in the woods, its scent clinging to the faded greenery of autumn. The mare's stomach turned and she fought the urge to heave. She didn't know which way to go - the stench was everywhere, burning in her nose, lingering in her mind, and no matter which direction she started in, it seemed to follow her. Perhaps she was walking in circles... or perhaps the carcass of whatever poor soul had been lost was strewn in every direction. Sohalia shuddered and kept walking. It was dark even in the brightest area of the Deep Forest. A young Sohalia, innocent and naive, wandered in its depths, unaware of the dangers that hid within. She was newly come, and this had been her accidental first destination. There was a stallion and a mare, and though she was suspicious, they treated her kindly enough. Even so, when the wolves came upon them, snarling and snapping and chasing, the mare ran without looking back. She'd never found out what had happened to those stallions. What if they had met their end here, all because she had left them to face the pack alone? What if one more fighting body, no matter how petite, no matter how inexperienced, would have made the difference? She recognized an undertone, a vague hint of a smell, something musky and masculine and almost familiar, and for a moment she imagined that she might come upon Gaucho in these woods. Hope and longing leapt to her throat and she almost cried out, but then she remembered that the WildFire was dead, burned to ashes in the Dragon's Throat, and the despair was so great that it nearly consumed her. Perhaps it would be easier to simply succumb to whatever monster prowled in the shadows than to continue to face a future without her sun. Or without her son. Rhoa. It was half a thought, a whispered memory, but suddenly, the Transcended knew. She was not the first to arrive, the world moving in slow motion, as though she was in a nightmare from which she could not wake. A gold-tipped hybrid lay beside the motionless body of her first son, and for a moment Sohalia thought that perhaps they were both dead, two lovers (or so she assumed, from the mare's embrace) sent to their graves too early, a Romeo and Juliet hoping to be reunited in the next life. But then a sob fell from golden lips, and it was mirrored in ivory. The girl - and she was just a girl, really, so young and full of life - was murmuring to the still and lifeless corpse. It could't be true. None of this could be real. To have lost her mate - the one true love that she had allowed to slip away - was bad enough. To have lost her firstborn child, a daughter, dead before she ever entered this world, was worse. To have lost a daughter grown - Skysong - and a son who had become a man when she wasn't looking - Rhoa - it was just too much. She couldn't cry anymore. Gaucho had stolen all of her tears. "You're pregnant?" she whispered stupidly, having arrived beside the mourning mare. Her voice was dull and dazed, as though she were only just waking up. "Oh, Rhoa..." The grief in her voice spoke of a pain greater than any should need to bear. Gaucho was dead. Rhoa was dead. And there was a child. Oh, gods, what were they going to do now? "Talk talk talk." |
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@Ranjiri
