------" Tares "------

Exhaustion sweeps over me in waves. I am the battle-torn mother hiding from her past in scholarly pursuits, trying to heal, trying to love. But the commitment is difficult, the emotion faltering and unsupported. It is simply there, raw and pure, exposed and dangerous. I am unsure as to whether or not this is what love should be, but I sense it is not the desired sensation. I have wandered from what is left of the battlefield and the Qian's home, put my son in good care, and gone to wander once more. I truly wonder if I am awful mother. Should I not have spent the time with him that he requested?

But how could I explain to him that he should not be witness to my pain? Arbutus has spread his wings over the wound, but my son still saw the tears and scented the blood. Alisier was not stupid, I had always taken pride in his intelligence. He knew by the sound of my breathing alone that something was wrong.

I could not bear to see that look in his eyes agin- that look that suggested I had betrayed him by going to war and putting my life at risk. That look that suggested all that he wanted was affection, that all he wanted and needed I could not give. It hurt more than the mending rib and the broken flesh- more than the scar tissue forming and more than the walk back home.

I had taken wing simply to avoid the pressure of the earth against my weak hocks and the burden of heavy breath in my lungs. In the sky everything was clearer, and so now when I have landed, my fiery wings sweeping through the threshold air and cutting through it with ease, I feel as if I am going to give in once more. My beard and tail drag against the earth as I hang my head low and gasp for breath and search for the source of the sounds I cannot help but hear. It is Arbutus who guides me, flitting before me in a fiery little form that guides me to the company.

Once before them I automatically straighten myself, but there is no hiding my injury. My wing folds over the hole in my side but the flames only lick at it and cast it in a harsher light. If anything, the white of my rib grows brighter in the sunset lit forest. My eyes, a bright yellow to match the feather wrapped in my mane, travel across the trio before me. Two equines standing side by side, one a gorgeous mare with a veil across her eyes, accompanied by another that looks particularly worn. I know I should help her, but whatever motherly instinct should rest within my bones is absent from my body and soul. I am left standing awkwardly in their company, lips parted as if to speak but only silence coming out.

At last, my voice emerges from my body- I have almost forgotten how I sound. "You are hurt and weary- all of you," I add with a glance towards the small veiled one. While her company may be healthy, she seems frail and he protective- surely anyone constantly on guard such as he will appreciate rest. "I am Tares of the Tuuli," I introduce, taking a gentle and tentative step closer towards the malnourished chestnut mare. She seems fearful, as if we will hurt her. As if someone already has.

"I can provide you with shelter and aid, should you desire it," I offer in a quiet voice, partially to save my breath and somewhat to keep the tone low and relaxed. Trauma of some sort has occurred here- I am not one to bring back any memories.