I am the razor in the hands of your heart;
And I am the razor in the hands of God.
Evaline allowed her head to hover over the surface of the pool for a few seconds, her nervous eyes still frantically scanning the landscape for any disruptions that could come from a horse spying on her in the distance. When the trees and the grasses remained still for a several second span, she breathed a short sigh and lowered her parted lips into the water. There she drank, almost as feverishly as she had inspected every inch of foliage around her, slurping past the point of feeling full and only stopping once she had run out of breathe. Remnants of her drink fell back into the pool in heavy gulps as the mare's soft pink nostrils flared and she struggled to catch her breathe. Her abdomen ached from the sudden influx of cool water. She could feel it sitting heavily in her otherwise empty stomach. But the mare didn't know when she would be brave enough to venture back to this common gathering place in the Lagoon. She'd been lucky to drink as much as she had without being spotted by Kasabian or Psych or that heavy draft breed one who tended to stay out of her way, but was still too close to the others to make her feel comfortable.
The palomino mare was licking her whiskered lips, and even allowing one sore hind leg to cock high in a resting position when she heard the breaking of twigs in the distance. Immediately she straightened up, her delicately dished face whipped high over her withers, as she waited to see the form of her captors appear in the distance. To her surprise, a big, dark stallion emerged instead, a young one, but someone she'd never seen before. She didn't immediately scamper into the woods behind her since they were divided by the pool in between them. She could manage to get away into the woods before the stallion could circle the pool to get to her.
When he speaks, only her unharmed ear swivels forward to catch what he'd said. The other was too stiff and swollen with infection to do more than just bounce lightly above her head when she moved. Silently Evaline was terrified of it getting worse, of an infection spreading further into her body, or of her ear shriveling up and becoming a disfigured, useless and painful nub at the top of her head for the rest of her life. There's still some fight in her, however, and when the young stallion asks about her condition, she fights the urge to spat "your fucking dip shit friends is what happened, moron." But she didn't know who was listening, or who this stallion was or his connection to her eldest son. "I'm being held here against my will." She managed to say in a shaky tone. The mare couldn't remember the last time she'd actually spoken aloud to someone. When Psych or Kasabian was around, she mostly just squealed and whimpered until it was over. "And this is what they do to captive mares."
Evaline eyed the boy for a moment longer. She'd never seen him before, but something familiar was registering in her mind. He looked a little like Inka, that kind Peak mare she'd met in at the Falls who was, in fact, Shamwari's aunt, of all things. A flicker of hope filled her chest. "What are you doing here?"
17 | Arabian cross |14.2 | Palomino | Mother of Kasabian, Shamwari, Vita Nova, Paradiso | Vinyl |