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04-18-2013, 12:54 PM
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I remember when I first arrived in the Throat. I was quiet, a bit shy, not used to the company of so many others. I had been a loner for so long that I had forgotten what it felt like to have a family. But Rowan had helped me to adjust, as she was more of a loner, too, and together we confronted the challenge of crowds. Slowly, I had blossomed in the hold of my new family. I was happy, I was healthy, and I was prepared to contribute to my herd. And I was in love, thanks to my friend Phaedra. Rumor has it that the Grey has invaded the Foothills. I am glad that she, and her foals, have a home; I admit that I worried endlessly about them. But now it would seem that I am a whole different mare. I have loved; I have lost. I have found myself tied here with no real reason to stay. Sure, Note is trying to be here for our daughter and for me, but I have betrayed him. I have betrayed her. What kind of mother am I? What kind of mate am I? What kind of being am I? I truly must be selfish, to have taken all that Note has done for me and to metaphorically throw it in his face. Not that he knows, yet. Perhaps he never will. But does that make me better or worse? A Pegasus mare appears, and I eye her as she approaches the water. She looks younger than me, though she is certainly much taller. A well-proportioned fae, there is an elegance about her that I get the feeling she had only recently begun to grow into; along with that, there is something almost nervous about her. I haven’t seen her before, so maybe she is new and anxious, like I once was. I find myself wondering how long she was alone before she arrived here. Her greeting is gentle, if a bit timid, and I immediately take a liking to her. The need to place my own worries to the side, as I had done so often before for so many others – perhaps this is the part of me that I have forgotten in recent weeks, though that is a musing for another time – is a relief, and I smile kindly at her. Perhaps I am not the oldest of the herd, but I have been here long enough, I feel, to be of some assistance. ”Hello, Africa,” I say in a soft, flute-like voice. ”I am Sohalia. Welcome to the Dragon’s Throat. How can I help you?” |
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"Talk talk talk." |
| Sohalia Don't wanna leave this life knowing I barely tried... |
