Wade had forgotten how strong his mother could be during these episodes. Though it was surely down, in part, to the humidity and stress of the situation, his efforts to hold Jetta while she thrashed soon left him drenched in sweat.
This was a particularly bad one, too, for it was several minutes before her convulsions began to subside. Finally, when all that was left was a bit of twitching and teeth-gnashing, Wade lifted his now-sore neck and nearly jumped out of his skin when he found himself face-to-face with a stallion. The stranger stared down at them with anger and disgust, and his accented words were sharp and accusing. Wade stared up at him with uncomprehending blue eyes for several moments.
“What?” he finally said with bewilderment, and awkwardly lurched to his feet. Wade was no fighter, but it was something of a relief to see he had several inches on the stranger. If it came down to it, he would do whatever he could to protect his mother. “What are you talking about?” he continued. “Can’t you see she’s sick?”
From the ground, he heard a low moan.
---
Jetta opened her eyes and was immediately aware of three things: one, she was on her side; two; she was drenched in sweat; and three, her head hurt, which made sense considering it was half-draped on top of a rock. She swallowed against the dryness of her throat and tasted blood. She must have bitten her tongue. With a groan, she sat upright and closed her eyes against the resulting dizziness.
“Ma,” she heard, though the voice was faint and distorted, as though being shouted from a distance. “Ma,” the voice said again, more clearly this time. Jetta opened her eyes to find her son looking down at her with concern. “Are you with me?”
I’m with you, Jetta replied mentally, but - as usual after these episodes - she felt so tired, so weak, that she could barely summon the energy to speak.
Then she noticed the strange stallion beside Wade, looking back at her with disgust. Something jolted in Jetta. Already the filaments of the vision were disappearing like smoke, but Jetta clutched at them desperately before they could disappear forever. With trembling knees, she slowly lifted herself to her feet, her weary blue eyes locked on the stallion’s face.
“It’s… it’s you,” she breathed in a barely-audible whisper. “I dreamed of you.”
12; friesian mutt; dark bay splash; 16.1hh
valentine x inka |