RUSKE

        Gradually, I grew accustomed to the Edge. Each day saw a little of my old strength returning; as spring drew warmer around me, cloaking the landscape in green, I felt emboldened. The noise of the sea drew me forward as it never had before, and curious I came to the sheer drop of the rocky cliffs, to peer in curiosity over that edge. The ocean rumbled far below: like a living thing, the taste of salt sharp on the air. The wind ran blunt talons through my tangled mane, doing little to soften my appearance. I supposed I had grown wild, in my time alone – or perhaps I had always been wild. Perhaps I had forgotten.

        I lost interest in the ocean soon enough. It failed to cage the imagination the same way living creatures did – for it only acquired some semblance of liveliness, and never the true heat of a beating heart. I found little reason to stay and watch the continuous thrashing of waves.

        Turning from the water, I studied the young grass spreading out ahead of me: sweet, green turf. It had been good to me through the past days, filling in the hollows illness had once pounded into my flanks. But I will admit the grassland felt, occasionally, somewhat empty. For all the bounty of the World’s Edge, I knew very few of those who actually lived within the trees, and fewer still I might consider my contemporaries. Most were young mares, higher ranking than myself – gifted and wise, but different beings altogether from myself.

        I could hardly begrudge them that, but I did wonder if fresh blood would not be a bad thing. My limbs moved beneath me without purpose, steering my rangy body in whichever direction they happened to go. The sight of another horned shape in the distance caught my attention as nothing else had managed to do. Head lifted, I called out to her without much thought: a vague hello.

        Gait lifting to a trot, I shortened the distance between us. That brief pull of little exercise weighed with surprising heaviness upon my muscles and my chest; I reached her breathing harder than I should, a barking cough only just stifled between my teeth. It had become unending, the last grasping fingers of that illness I had left behind; it left its mark within me, wickedly. But I did not allow the matter to grow overbearing on my mind. I slowed and nodded my head to the stranger instead, my own gaze bright with interest as I studied her – for she was strange, in the best way. The black I had noticed before covered her predominantly, save for a white face adorned with two horns, and no forelock… or any mane at all. Had she arrived from someplace very far away? I nearly forgot to speak, in my curiosity, but at last heaved words from somewhere in the back of my mind.

        ”Good morning.” Was it morning still? I was not particularly certain. ”I don’t believe we’ve met; I am Ruske, a nurse.” I cast an eye again over the impressive girth of her barrel, the sheen of sweat across dark shoulders. Perhaps that meant other stallions did reside here, somewhere. I cast a furtive glance around us both, hoping I was not about to be taken for trespassing. Glancing back to the mare, I decided my attentions were harmless enough, and the herd peaceful enough, to cause no real trouble. ”It is too fine a day to be spending alone, I think… Unless you are awaiting someone else?”

NursE

world's edge