On the tundra, winter dominated. Summer was but a brief window, a glimpse of life and sunshine; by the time autumn came, it was so cold that it may as well have already been winter, and it would continue that way well into spring. Days passed in the blink of an eye; visibility was always low, either because of what little sunlight graced the land or because of tempestuous blizzards or both. With the freezing temperatures and slim pickings, the herd had migrated inland toward the caves and springs - much to the dismay of Roza and Rohanne, who would now forever associate the area with the traumatic events of summer- but they relented, clinging onto the fringes of the herd for fear of the howls that echoed and wavered in the night.
It was a miserable existence, but otherwise the twins were faring well. Echoes of their forgotten tundra heritage shone through in their thick, shaggy coats, of which Roza’s was turning a mottled silver, the edges of her blanket blurring into dapples that camouflaged her well when snow was falling. Rohanne was still on the lean side from her lack of appetite the past two seasons, but the briskness of winter and the demand for survival were bringing the grullo mare out of the darkness of despair. Roza, who had watched her sister shrivel into a husk both physically and emotionally, was glad to see it. Perhaps when spring came and the ocean warmed, Rohanne would let her take them on an adventure to the crossing, or even the mainland to see if they could find their mother and grandmother again. Maybe, just maybe - if Rohanne could part with her irritating fixation on Nephilim - they could find somewhere else to live that didn’t hold such awful memories for them.
Roza was biding her time to suggest this, however, for she knew exactly what Rohanne’s reaction would be. Much as Roza itched to get out of the bay at the first opportunity, she saw the way Rohanne looked at Nephilim; she knew the strange, troubling guilt that pervaded her sister over having failed to provide the young stallion with a living child.
So, as they huddled together in the shadows of a tall pine, Roza simply closed her eyes and slept.
---
Once Roza’s breathing had slowed, Rohanne’s eyes snapped open. She had been waiting for this. Eyes carefully searching her sister’s slumbering form, the grullo gently pressed her muzzle against Roza’s shoulder to see if she would stir. When she did not, Rohanne turned her head to gaze out at the illuminated form of pale Nephilim, who stood not far away watching the stars.
Despite the ache in her chest, she smiled.
As quietly as she could muster, Rohanne crept out from her shelter and picked her way through the moss and rocks with her head hanging low to the ground. Her heart hammered as she grew close to him. They had not had a moment alone since... well, probably since their child’s conception. Much had passed since then, and Rohanne was a different horse to the one she had been that night. Nephilim was too, she reflected. He was no longer the awkward boy that incited strange conversations about mothers, though in her secret, nostalgic way Rohanne would always see him as just that.
She stopped a few strides away, lifting her head a little and regarding him dark, careful eyes that reflected the starlight. Her tail swished to relieve some of her anxiety. What should she say? What could she say after all that had happened?
Maybe we should just start over, she thought, and inhaled the cold winter air.
“Hello.” Her voice was low and quiet.
ROZA & ROHANNE
twin daughters of vitalij & asha |