Arris
"-and in the dirt she lay, her dress torn asunder,
her face a mask of courage and strength."
As a child, she had been one of the many children of her father to frolic and play amongst the grey shores of the cove. She had watched as the waves had crashed down against the chilly coast of her home, when she had been young and wild, she had galloped amongst the tide with her brothers and sisters, laughing as she played and always at the head of their entourage. Sadly she had grown, and she had wandered too far from the place that was once her home, leaving behind her family and stepping out into the world hoping to start something for herself.
Instead she had been treated with unkindness and violence, such behaviours that her father had never displayed. The women of the cove had lived a rather estrange life amongst themselves, but the painted king had never berated his family for preferring the companion of him or their children over that of other women. Instead he had run himself weary trying to appease the attentions of all the mares, and at the end of the day falling to his knees in the shadow of his great desert beauty, the woman that had found him and loved him despite his tiring schedule.
Everything was different now, she had returned to the peak once more, this time with the silvery mare following quietly behind her. Before, when she had come here, Arris had been greeted by nothing but the curious nattering of a lonely native to these lands. She had been questioned and then she had been left alone, but now she had the company of another woman and a child to brighten their days. Despite all the childhood romping about that the girl had had, she had certainly never managed to step into the protect shoes of a prospective mother, so as she stumbles across Iolar and the newly born child, she stares quietly down at the filly for a few moments before speaking again.
She looks healthy. She says softly, offering a smile in the direction of the new mother before turning her pale blue eyes back towards the child and letting her cool stare skim across the infant's skin. Silently, the mare of mottled blue and white is thankful that the child looks nothing like her father, and that she had escaped from the savanna as nothing but a sweet attachement to her mother's side. She was also glad to find that Iolar had bore a filly, a child that would be more than welcome amongst the great mares of the peak and that she would always have a home here, even if her mother and her painted friend moved on. As the silvery mare goes on to introduce the child, offering her forwards to the pale-faced woman, Arris nods at the name, a small smile still on her lips. I like that name. It has a strong sound to it.
The painted mare knew nothing of the disappointment in her friend's voice, thinking that instead Iolar was tired due to childbirth and wanting to rest, she twists her head to look back the way she had come, scanning the area behind her, looking for a shelter for the night. Do you want to rest for a bit or keep going? If we make it to the top we can find somewhere for you to rest and I can go look for whoever is in charge here. |
