Common

as I wandered the forest, the green leaves among, i heard a wild flower singing a song

her absence from the islands ceases to exist when she pulls herself up out of the foaming surf, her demure hoof prints washing away after each step as she traipses along the beach. it was like she had never left. it was like she had never been there. the time she was gone was both an eternity and a shallow second, forever and not it all, somehow at the same time. she remembers vaguely posing the question to shamwari if he would forgive her for leaving and then slipping away as easily as she had from her old life. she has found nothing in the world to tether her, nothing to burn away the fear of always being on the outside. she ponders this as she steps along the beach, her body a pale glimmering mirage. words echo in her ears, not bad words, not mean words, but heartbreaking to her each in their own way.

she remembers her family joking around her as a foal, laughing to each other as they said she would always be too dainty to blend in, too proud, too small, too strange..she was all of those things. sometimes she felt more like a ghost than a living breathing horse. she had gone away in hopes of discovering herself, becoming more alive, finding herself in the wide wide world. instead she has washed up on the shore the same as she has always been, maybe more so.

her body is not much changed since her first run in with the islands. she is still a pale glowing smudge of golden cream against a dark landscape. the creamy gold of her body melts into a slightly darker bronze that begins just above her knees and hocks and darkens the soft velvet of her nose. she looks like her namesake, a petal, delicate and soft, translucent enough it seems like if you tried hard enough you could look through it…through her. fragile enough that she might crumple and tear if treated with roughness. inside however, is the fortitude passed down from her sire. a steely determination that one might see occasionally in depth of her icy blue eyes. a hard glint here and there that despite the magic and unworldly make of her body, shows there is iron and earth in her soul.

she doesn’t expect a welcoming party. she doesn’t even know if anyone will still be here, or even remember her if they are. she remembers the prairie and it’s leader fondly, though distantly. she hadn’t quite fit in there either, despite wanting to, even trying a little. she never knew how to interact with a herd, where she stood, how to fit in. maybe that was her gift and her curse. regardless, she must at least return to luthien for a short while. she owes it to shamwari to tell him she is back. she may not stay long again in that territory, but she knows, as he had told her himself, she would likely be welcome back for good if that was her choice.

for now though, she can’t find it in herself to leave the beach quite yet. she is drawn to the sand, the way it shifts and sinks around her after each small pink hoof lands and is picked up. the way the water swirls around her ankles after each wave rushes in alongside her. she never used to like the ocean but now she has developed a fondness. the forest, the trees and flowers and grass used to be her only love. she could hide and wander and visit with them without another care in the world but it was the darkness of the ocean she was now drawn to… the way the waves could turn in an instant from caressing to battering her body, how the current could one moment be guiding her along and the next moment pulling her under. it was indifferent to her every charm. indifferent to the shine of her body under the pale spring moon, the bonze gauzy halo of her mane drying in the gentle spring breeze… it was one of the only things that made her feel alive…to know that the dark churning expanse off the shore could swallow her in an instant, cause her pulse to throb in her ears, pummel her flesh, steal away her breath...it could make her feel like she was in the moment.

p e t a l

mare : 5 : perlino dun : arabian mustang mutt : 13.3 : kafkaesque

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