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Normally I would have waited, have given them a chance to make their apologies and reclaim face. Not because I wanted any sort of apology from the women - far from it. I couldn't care less for anything more the mares had to say. With the conclusion of my outburst came the conclusion of my interest, any keenness I might have felt for my group of acquaintances utterly lost in the mess of their bickering. No, I would have waited because it was the polite thing to do, and if nothing else, I had been raised a gentleman. Far be it from me to rob another of their chance at redemption, the opportunity to scramble for lost dignity. I would have waited in patience, expression stoic but ears perked forward politely.
I turned away from them, shaking the rage from my face, eyes set in the direction where I assumed I would find the edge of the forest, outside of this dismal land. I had lost enough in my life, this chance at a new land would make no difference in the pool of my missed chances, the memories I had never managed to form. I owed these mares nothing, after all, and they would doubtless forget me the moment I departed. My anger had helped the adrenaline I'd thought I lost resurface in my veins. I did not look back as my hooves beat slow and steady into the ground, one step away, then two, then three. I did not look back until suddenly a new voice entered into the darkness of our clearing, and I felt myself freeze in horror as I realized it was another mare.
Really, you ask? Yes. Really. I had no idea what I'd done to anger the gods of this place so, but it must have been something dreadful, because they were having the time of their lives tormenting me.
Others are genuinely interested in finding the best fit, like me. In my already aggravated state, it only took three sentences for me to decide that she was just as bad as the others, this grulla who I'd made the mistake of turning back to see. There was something in the way she held herself, too, some misplaced sense of superiority that she obviously felt over these mares. I wanted to ask what made her better, but the question would serve no purpose except to vent my own ire. She went on, though, deciding that I needed a lesson in geography, explaining that this place I had found myself trapped in was called Helovia, that I was on some Threshold, that there were patron gods. Why? I had not asked for this information, yet she seemed to think herself a queen for giving it. I sighed, and turned away again, not caring that she was in the middle of her speech. I needed to get away from here.
I stretched my wings pointedly, and braced for flight. It was Andromeda who made me hesitate, her voice a quiet point of sincerity in the dismal dark. I wanted to ignore her, I really did, yet part of me held back. In all of this she had been the only one with a nature that approached being enjoyable, the only one who was not wantonly greedy or bitchy or callous. Gold-green eyes turned to her, still hard but not hateful. I can't say that I appreciated her offer of company, because in truth I really just wanted to run from them as quickly as I could, but I still acknowledged it. A dip of my head to her brilliant smile, gruff and silent but the most she could ever hope for.
And then I leapt, earthen form taking to the air in one great bound. Damn mares could stay behind and continue their conversation; I was done, and gone, and free.
I did not realize that I had completely missed the exit of this land. Too late I would find that instead of back into the wilderness, I was flying straight to the Thistle Meadow. But that's a story for another time, I suppose.
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