icy water laps at the shoreline, grey and foreboding, but it doesn’t stop the mare from her wandering. like a hulking black ghost she marches through the fog, the shadow of a shadow. it is barely dawn, but the clouds have drawn close over the horizon and the world remains in twilight, protesting the suns arrival. she feels the same. she wants to lock out all promise of sunshine, of happiness, of warmth and comfort. she finds her solace here, in the frosty fog, in the darkness around the edge of morning, in the cold.
it has been a while since she left the peak, even longer since she first washed up on this shore. the panic has left her, the blinding fear that she will be alone forever…something much more unfortunate has settled into it’s place… a grim acceptance. she is alone as ever and it hurts her to think of losing anyone else.
the loss of the vague camaraderie of the peak caused a dull pang in her heart to think of. considering the faces of her rodina before coming to the islands sends an icy shock of woe that lurches in her soul. she could not allow her mind to wander to her bratři, her brothers… she blocked all considerations of them out for fear it would cripple her entirely. even now she remembered a brief encounter in the meadow with one of her royal blood. the convex shape of his face bringing such immeasurable joy coursing through her veins that she thought she would light on fire before she realized he was a stranger to her. and then he too, another ghost of her past, just disappeared.
no, it seemed companionship was not destined for her. instead she marched along the shoreline like an ancient sentinal, keeping watch over this empty place. for what or for who she didn’t know.
