I'll let you listen to my sweet, sweet lies.

Arwen would always remember the night they had snuck away. It haunted her dreams, and caused her soul to rot in a boiling pot of hate. Every their mother had stopped for a rest, Arwen had been on guard, looking out for the shadows that she knew were coming to get her family. The burns from the brute's dragon had caused the ivory fur on the golden girl's back to burn away; the skin was pink and furious. Yet the young girl did not complain of the pain, instead she kept encouraging herself to keep on walking. Her mother was weak and her sister was injured, Arwen had to be the strong one, the only one she had to help her was the newly hatched griffin. The young griffin, named Wynter by her mother was growing quickly. It's scrawny body now had feathers sprouting, each of them were on her almost pure white their ends tipped in gold. Arwen could see how her mother and griffin were made of each other. Yet Wynter was still not able to fly, this seemed to cause her mother some distress so the youngest daughter kept her mouth closed. Most of the time Wynter traveled on her mother's back, Awren wanted to ask the griffin to walk by itself...surely the extra weight was causing her mother more struggle? But the company of Wynter seemed to help. Again Arwen kept quiet.

The scenes changed again, it grew colder at night and the golden filly wondered how long it would be until they reached The Basin. Their mother dubbed the land 'Thistle meadow.' Looking around, the youngest daughter did her best to take note of the way they had traveled. If she ever needed to find The Basin on her own...well then this journey certainly would come in handy. Their mother's voice caused Arwen to look up intently, why would their mother not be able to continue the journey? They were free, surely she could just keep walking to The Basin. Frowning the young girl watched a line of blood trickle down her mothers face, finally the realisation hit. Their mother was talking about death. "Mother..." A cough from her traitorous lungs made Arah turn away from her and continue to struggle home. "Aschie...she's going to die...and it's all my fault." A sob broke through her lips, the horror at knowing what she had done. Never would the young girl be able to forgive herself. "I can't bring her back either Aschie." Now the filly knew that she did not have the power to give life. All she could do was animate the dead bodies of others, it was not life. The empty containers became her minions.

Day would come with the rising of the sun and fall again just as quickly. Arwen was exhausted, most nights she buried her face into Wynter's side and cried herself to sleep before their mother would wake them after only a few hours of rest. Then the painful struggle to continue in their journey would start again. Arwen had fallen silent and began to refuse to drink whatever milk their mother had to offer. Mostly Arah was too weak to even produce the milk that both twins needed. Asch was badly wounded, so Arwen wanted her sister to have the food. Only once her stomach grumbled and Arwen felt starved would she finally take the milk that was offered. Once they paused looking over a land, Arwen could smell the other horses. Yet their mother just paused looking over the land and then continued on their journey. Arah had grown frail, her usual beauty dimmed. Her body was emaciated, bloodied and broken. It was all the golden daughter's fault. She had chased the rabbit, gotten caught and lured Arah and Asch into the trap. Sometimes while they wondered, Arwen would hear the voices talk to her. They would whisper advice and soothing words, but nothing they said actually made the situation any better. The youngest daughter had as good as killed her mother.

Arwen looked up as Wynter raised her head and let loose a cry. It was a chilly and a most barren land that they had come on to. "It's so cold". Shivers worked their way up and down her golden spotted spine. Looking over the land of snow and stiff dirt, Arwen wondered if this was The Basin that her mother spoke so fondly of. Their would not be able to feed on the bitter grasses and shrubs, she ignored all the pathetic attempts of shrubby. Following her mother's instructions Arwen paid attention to the ground, watching for loose rocks and any collapsing boulders. Often her tiny hooves would trip and stumble over the rocks, another cough racked her body. "Keep going." Whispered encouragement meant for her small family. As Arah smiled, the golden girl allowed a small light go hope spark within her. It was small and could be blown out at any moment. Wynter spread her wings in the wind, Arwen smiled as she looked over at the griffin. They followed her through the maze, their mother steady in her pace and confident of the path that she took. It had to be soon, Araj's confidence and strength was growing, Wynter proved as much. Each time Arah grinned or seemed happier, Arwen would allow a smile of her own.

As her mother looked into the distance, Arwen looked up and followed her gaze. That had to be The Basin, the way her mother looked at the land. Arwen allowed herself to smile. Quickly, her mothers words confirmed the golden girl's thoughts. "Home." Testing the word, to see how it felt on her tongue caused a smile to blossom. It was an amazing word, filled with hope and safely. Something Arwen desired greatly. Giggling softly as Wynter scampered up her mothers neck, Arwen allowed the hope that had sparked within her chest to spread. Legs shaking, blood tailing through her coat, Arah made her way through the rough terrain and Arwen followed closely. Once her mother fell, Arwen rushed forward. "Careful mother!" Arah looked over Arwen and Asch, offing a warm smile and a nod Arwen wanted to see her mother rise again. Not wanting to disappoint, Arah indeed rose and Arwen began to follow her again. When they finally reached the bottom, Arwen burst into tears. The voice was weak, that called for their leaders. Wynter raised her head and added a screech to the doe's cries, Arwen collapsed onto the ground. "Home." 

0 words.
"Speech"