from the islands that we’ve crossed
we shake the water off
The lone wanderer had not seen a winter like this one for many years. It was renewing, and the biting freshness of it against her skin took hold of her, so that she lingered upon this first in a chain of islands far longer than she had lingered anywhere in her life. Guadalupe was not a creature of stillness, but here, for a time, she learned to watch and wait, and the change in perspective taught the shadow-mare many things.
During the few months that she had quietly roamed the crossing, she had spoken with few, had shared something of herself with only one. He had moved on, and Guadalupe had watched him go with contentment in her heart. Adventure awaited her on the mainland, but for the moment, her place was here, because now she had a journey to make that she’d not made since she was young. That had been before the world had taken her heart, before she’d started this voyage that would only end when she closed her eyes for the last time.
Guadalupe was as wild as they come. Not so much in a savage, visceral way, though let it be said that instinct was the only voice she never failed to heed. She was wild, in that she was free. She had no home to tie her down, no relations to which she owed loyalty. She came and went as she pleased, ever calm and inquisitive, moving over strange lands with all the fluidity and force of a swiftly coursing river. For now, though, she found herself unwilling to move on, because she had consented to temporary ties, and respected the boundaries of her choice. Much as she thrived on association with others, she was a solitary soul, and where she was going, no other could follow.
She was tranquil in repose, her midnight hide speckled with snow, so that when she twisted around to look over herself, she was reminded of him. Only, his spots hadn’t been white. By chance (for Guadalupe did not believe in such a thing as fate), she caught his scent on the wind – the one who knew her more than any of the islanders did, or would. Curious, she followed, and wasn’t all that surprised concerning the place he led her to this night. She had heard of these dwellers in the marsh, but seeing as she’d not had any contact with them - for none of them had bothered her for all the tales that made them out to be monsters – she had not yet shaped her opinion of them. Perhaps it was about time she did.
If she had been other than what she was, she would have quickly become concerned because no sooner had she made her way into the Lagoon, she had lost his trail, for there were many who lived here, and Guadalupe could no longer discern one scent from another. The black mare was not one to be dissuaded, or discouraged. She pressed on, knowing that, wherever she might end up in this swampland, her thirst for knowledge would be sated. Either she would find the one she followed, or she would be found, and there were opportunities to learn in both situations.
She had not expected to stumble on such a confrontation, however. There he stood, the spotted male who had kept her company for a short time. Guadalupe had said little to him, for she was not a loud and forceful soul – at least, not when it came to small-talk. But in life, she was ever resilient, and it went against her nature to shy away from the things that moved her, as the spirit with which the gold-skinned stallion charged tugged at the heart she thought she’d lost to the world, as the fervor evident in him drew her, like a brilliant, burning flame that mesmerised a common moth.
She leapt forward with a powerful thrust of her hind legs, and landed with a great splash in the marshy ground. “Salir!” she cried, hoping to draw the palomino’s attention to her. There was still some distance between them, and between her and the other two stallions. Some part of her noted that the other stranger had fallen to his knees. She did not turn aside, though, to either of the others. For now only one commanded her attention, and she watched, waited to see if he would slow, if he would turn his face towards her, meet her unwavering gaze and acknowledge her, even if only for a moment. “Please, wait!” she called out to him again, reaching for him with her voice. For a second, she glanced aside to the one she had come to find, and suddenly felt as if there was much she wanted to say. But she held her tongue, held her ground, and held her head in such a way to show respect to all three.
Her heart, it trembled like a creature about to take flight, and the desire to move forward and face whatever may come burned within her. But she waited, because she recognised that though she was a free spirit, commanded by none, she was an unbelonger here. She knew, better than most, that the land, it always had its laws.
guadalupe
like a silver glacier slowly shrinks away |