All is silent, nothing, not even she stirs. With eyes closed she lays on the forest floor collecting dust like the rotting remains of dead things, and she was like them was she not? Dead but not quite dead and for sure rotting away. Patches of dappled sunlight warm her body as she lays among the leaves melting away her will to stand even if she wanted too. How long had she been laying here? Did it matter? Somewhere deep in the forest a plant creeks as it moves and sways unwillingly, Sabia’s eyes snap open and her ears perk up, her breath comes fast and uneven.

Waking from her sleep the thoughts she wishes to escape come rushing back in. Saoirse, is he okay? Should she even care anymore? Of course she should,
His blood
Her blood
His blood...that man could never have what she created, Saoirse is her’s and the rape that created him didn’t matter. It couldn’t. As long as she thought of it she couldn’t look innocent Saoirse in the eye, that’s why she didn’t come back isn’t it? Maybe she needed to go back if the Throat let her at least to care for Saoirse until he didn’t need her anymore and then she would leave again. To lay down and rot as she was doing now.

Something slices clear through her thoughts like a knife. A voice, a real actual voice! Calling her name. Sabia was hesitant to acknowledge it at all but in the end if the voice knew her then maybe it was a sign. With an almost painful grunt the mare rises from her spot on the ground and takes a shaky step forward, she stumbles, having not used her legs in so long they were water weak. Yet the mare kept on only bumping into plant life a few times.

Following the voice felt like a dream as if she wasn’t really walking but floating, though that was nearly impossible. Sabia was too weak to fly, too sick for her wings to carry her, they were a painful sight here and there a feather would fall free and float and drift to the forest floor like a dead limb. The muscle and fat of her body had seemed to melt away as if it had never been there, mud and dead leaves clung to her dusty coat like a last stand, they tangled in her knotted overgrown mane and tail. Even her eyes seemed as dead as she looked. A walking ghost perhaps.

“How do you know my name?”

Sabia decided to ask the simple questions first. Her words dripped venom and distrust like she created the damn things, because the man she watched was unknown to her. Everyone was unknown to her. It was then something caught her attention, nostrils flaring she took in the scent of hot sand and something deep inside her quivered. A deep nostalgia that left her feeling emptier than ever.

Sabia then emerged from the shadows of the trees, allowing herself to be seen in full light. “What do you want dear brother of sand, with a ghost like me?”
         

Put me through hell again, I miss the fire.

 Notes: No worries! Sabia’s thoughts are a little crazy and jumbled and i know it probably doesn’t make sense, its not supposed to really lol