you shouldn’t walk where the hemlock grows

Relief washes over Faolain as Çiçek dispels her fears. The fury toward Solomon that had begun to burn so suddenly and so painfully in her gut fizzles out, and she lets out a quiet, hissing breath. As Çiçek’s lips press to her cheek in reassurance, she leans into the touch, the soft smile finding her lips once again. ”That is a relief,” she says, a touch of humor in her voice, ”because I don’t think I could take Solomon in a fight, unfortunately.” She chuckles at the image of Solomon’s towering, muscular figure, and her own spindly self trying to square up against him. She is fast, and she is learning more and more how to use her unusual strengths to her advantage, but Solomon is not an enemy she particularly wants anyway. ”Solomon makes a much better friend than he does a foe, I’m sure,” she muses. ”And he knows it.”

She falls silent, now, as Çiçek continues. Her voice has changed, and Faolain realizes she is uncharacteristically nervous, perhaps more so than she had been when telling Faolain of her pregnancy. The inky mare lets her speak, listening carefully, realization dawning gently on the simple fact that Çiçek would be leaving.

It is an odd feeling that the knowledge brings on. Faolain understands, and nods when Çiçek asks. She remains silent for a moment, briefly lost in memories of her own childhood. Mostly, she knows she will miss the golden spotted mare. Her feelings, though mixed, hold no resentment for her friend or for Solomon, and she finds that she is simply happy that Çiçek will be happy and that Faolain will get to see her again. She presses her face into the curve of Çiçek’s neck near the line of her jaw and sighs, but it is not an unhappy sigh, just a thoughtful one.

”Any foal would be lucky to have you for a mother,” she says genuinely. ”I never really knew my family as a child. I don’t know what would have been different, had they been around, but…your family was around for you, Çiçek, and I think you are lovely. So I think you must be onto something.” She pulls away to look at her companion’s painted face. ”The world certainly needs more of you, so I suppose I must share,” she says in good humor, her lips pulled up in a cheeky, lopsided grin. ”Rivaini and I will certainly come visit you, as well, if Solomon will have us.”

mare | black | 14hh | akhal-teke