The Lost Islands
CLICK FOR IMAGE CREDITS


Making love to a m e m o r y (war, open)
Posted on February 4, 2020 at 08:02:27 PM by Macabre




"If Love himself weep, shall not lovers weep,
learning from what sad cause he pours his tears?
Love hears his ladies crying their distress,
showing forth bitter sorrow through their eyes
because villainous Death has worked its cruel
destructive art upon a gentle heart,
and laid waste all that earth can find to praise
in a gracious lady, save her chastity."

Macabre stood at the shore of the Crossing Isle and looked out across the dark ocean. The stars overhead illuminated the gentle waves, and her gaze blurred as the surf loped gently at her ankles. There was a time not so long ago when the flaxen chestnut mare was terrified of the sea. Braving the swim from island to island was nearly an impossible endeavor. Macabre scoffed under her breath at the thought now. When she first arrived on the islands those many years ago, barely more than a filly, she was frightened of the world. She sought desperately for someone to take care of her. Midas came to mind. Then Dexter. Dogun and Vodnik. She needed someone to fight the Reaper for her.

It took many years for Macabre to learn that in order to be safe and to be free, she had to take care of herself.

Now she stood at the mouth of the sea with dozens of sisters behind her. A chill ran down the length of her spine as her dark, marbled eyes looked over their silhouettes under the moonlight. "You are ready." She shouted over the crashing waves to her comrades. "We! We are ready." She yelled, a wide, confident smirk etched over her whiskered lips. "We leave our home today to fight for our future. May we be brave. May we fight with clear eyes. May we honor our sisters who fell defending what has rightfully been ours."

The swim felt like it went on forever and was over too soon all at the same time. Her heart caught in her throat as the Peak sisters rose from the surf on Luthien. They heard the clash of bodies from within the trees all the way from the beach. The petite Codebreaker of the Peak gave one last longing glance at her sisters, saving her daughter, Wasp for last, and then cantered off into the dense thicket with a wild, shrill war cry. Macabre had never been a warrior. She never sought out violence. But the stallions who'd demanded this war threatened to bring down their very way of life. If there was anything worth fighting for, it was this. She faced the Reaper head on, for the first time in her life.

Macabre thought of Wasp, and the future she wanted for her daughter as she galloped through the Forest, the dark trunks of pine and evergreen trees whizzing by her view. She whinnied again, as the commotion of the ongoing battle grew louder. She wanted Persephone to know she was here - that the Peak was here.

This would end here and tonight.




"Hear then how Love paid homeage to this lady;
I saw him weeping there in human form,
observing the stilled image of her grace;
and more than once he raised his eyes toward Heaven,
where that sweet soul already had its home,
which once, on earth, had worn enchanting flesh."

Macabre | 12 | Mare | Mustang X Morgan | 14.2 HH | flaxen chestnut | © Vinyl




Replies:

Post a reply:
Name:
Subject:
Message:
Link Name:
Link URL:
Image URL:
Password To Edit Post:





Create Your Own Free Message Board or Free Forum!
Hosted By Boards2Go Copyright © 2020


<-- -->