Common

Chelle breathed deeply in the momentary peace that followed her words, her green eyes probing first one face and then the other for whatever secrets lay behind them. The black-and-white stallion who’d introduced himself as Cain softened in response to her tearful apology, which helped her to break free from the iron grasp of her fear. While she could not be certain of what the Desert’s ruler was, the amber mare decided that he was not as similar to Judas as his appearance had led her to assume. And once she was able to look past the unpleasant memories that his initial appearance had unearthed, the young mare could see the concern in his eyes—and hear the kindness in his voice when he sought to reassure her.

It was difficult to believe outside the boundaries of her experience. Yet Chelle could not help but to respond to warmth in kind—particularly since her own life had been absent of it for too long. The smile that she offered was a ghost of the one she’d been given; a curving of lips so subtle that it could easily be missed. But it was the first time that she’d smiled since—well, since she had raced across the tall grass of her home, the sandy skin of her back warmed by the sun. When she’d still been young in her thoughts as well as her body. Young enough to be unimportant in the schemes of her elders, to be free in her own limited way—and to be content in those stolen moments of freedom.

Young enough to believe that escape was an answer to her sorrows and not simply another cause for them.

Beneath the surface, this bright and bold creature still existed. And when the stranger who bore Solomon’s name spoke, its ears cupped eagerly forward and its eyes burned bright with hope. But Chelle—the Chelle who stood on the stony ground of an unfamiliar shore—had become too cynical to believe the power that his words offered her. Only seasons earlier, she’d learned the fallacy of choice with Judas’s proclamation. And over the course of the last, she’d learned that even the choices that she was given were no real choice at all. She could either run, or fall prey to the wolves. She could drink from the muddy pool that coated her throat with unpleasant grime, or be thirsty. She could either struggle and survive—or succumb, and perish.

But she was still a lonely girl beneath her jaded exterior—a girl who had never been charmed in any sort of way. This was the part of her that responded to the sudden warmth in the taller stallion’s voice with a hitching of breath that was audible to both. Solomon’s flattery was like wine in her veins, heating her blood and granting her the courage to meet his emerald gaze unselfconsciously. “Chelle,” She responded simply at first—and then, emboldened by the ease with which that single syllable left her, continuing on. “And you’re right, Sol-Solomon. Because if I should hear you call me either of those things again...well, I could never abide a lie. Even one that was offered in kindness.”

Chelle’s eyes found Cain again, the long golden threads of her eyelashes tangling briefly together when she blinked. It was more of a struggle to overcome her ingrained docility in the case of this creature whose imposing figure resembled that of the tyrant she’d known. But with effort, she was able to seperate that feeling from the rest and set it aside. And once she had accomplished that, she could not help but to offer him another glimpse of the fire within her—if only because it felt far too glorious to let it burn bright. “When you first saw me, you offered me help. But tell me, Cain,” She began, her voice rising from its gentle murmur into something stronger. “Was that your true purpose in approaching me, or was there something more? I will remind you of what I told Solomon here—that I would sooner hear an ugly truth than a well-meaning lie.”

Part of the heat that she’d found stemmed from flattery, but just as much stemmed from frustration. Both had offered her nothing but kindness—and yet now that she’d held it close, Chelle found that it was not kindness she truly desired. Any company might have served to stave off her loneliness, but in the peace and pain of her solitude, the freckled girl had grown.

Now that she’d found her own kind again, the amber tobiano learned that what she wanted was to know someone truly—and to have them know her in the same way.