the silence in-between
what i thought and what i said

Merete had settled in the Peak. She had been here for a few months now, and the women she had met thus far had been kind and friendly enough, and she enjoyed living near what little family she had left. It seemed ironic that she had spent so long running away from them, and now craved to know them better, but she supposed life never really went how you expected it to.

A life surrounded by women was not one she had ever thought she would enjoy, and yet here she was. It was strange, then, when she happened upon a stallion at the bottom of the mountain, apparently resting by the stream that trickled down towards the common lands. Merete had been wandering aimlessly, stretching her legs on this pleasant day, and planned to pause for a drink before she made the climb back up the mountain, but once again those plans changed suddenly.

She wandered over, letting out a snort as she approached so as not to startle the stranger – although he could hardly fail to notice a large Friesian mare such as herself striding along. His colouring reminded her of Jetta, although there were so many horses on the Lost Islands that came in all different colours and patterns she did not leap to the conclusion that they were related.

She wondered what he was doing here – was he one of the other mares’ suitors, or had he merely gotten lost? He hardly looked like he was here to cause trouble, resting there so peacefully, so a social visit seemed the most reasonable explanation.

“Hello,” she greeted simply as she neared the stranger, giving a small bob of her head and a small smile. “Can I help you? Are you here for one of the Peak mares?”

MERETE

(het vuur x sterre)