Zjeena has always tried to take the high road. She remained loyal when temptations might have lured her astray. She has kept every promise she's ever made. She's always been accountable, polite, and hard working. Every effort is made for the greater good of her herd and her family. In doing so, she hoped others might follow her lead.
But this young mare is learning; no good deed goes unpunished.
Her heart no longer beats inside her chest. It stills within her, frozen without a soul. The gods don't know how her legs continue to paddle when she is dead, but somehow they do. It takes every effort for the little mare to heave herself ashore. Salt water has washed the smell of the Bay from her coat, but her skin still crawls with the unwanted touch of Liland. She has never felt so dirty. She's been soiled by the filth of a breeding, forced upon her by someone who once claimed to love her.
Has anyone ever loved her?
She can still see it in her mind's eye, the callous way in which he took her. Not once did Liland ask her if she wanted to, how she was feeling, or if she was sure. The truth is, Zjeena wasn't sure. She wasn't ready. She didn't want to. Zjeena has been honest with everyone but herself, and look where it has led her. It has led her down, down, down, into this pit of absolute despair.
The mare moves across the beach, headed for the shadows of the jungle. She is at home only in the darkness now.
The pays no mind to Rougaru standing several lengths to her left. Her legs tremble, and her shoulders heave with the exertion of swimming, and the exertion of losing every trust in stallion-kind. She doesn't bother to shake the water from her coat. She drags her sodden and heavy tail behind her, leaving a wet trail. Her head is bent in defeat. Salt water streams from every low point, from her chin to her belly. It's impossible to tell what falls from the ocean and what falls from her eyes.