The winds were changing, and for one who ever sought for meaning in even the simplest of things, it was a sign of foreboding. Not even the unending wonder that the young bright souls behind stirred within could serve to distract Charybdis any longer. For days now, she had kept herself hidden away in the depths of her jungle home. There had been a clear stream, running swift and strong, and it had been within reach of this that Charybdis had dropped to her knees and laboured. So it was that the song of this small stream running through the Ridge, relentless and unending, like life-blood of the place that would be Home to them always, was the first sound to grace the ears of the pair of black and white foals who were tangled up in one another’s limbs, drawing their first breaths together.
Like water (in all of its forms) Charybdis could not remain still for long. She had got the pair of younglings up and moving, and turned from her inland path, headed for the open sea. This was how she came upon Faolain in the fringes of the jungle, with a myriad of other scents faint upon her coat. Charybdis tilted her head, her dark eye roving over the dark filly partly tucked beneath the Ridge Guardian. A time of great change was upon them, and in the hidden depths of her heart, Charybdis feared what was to come. But she couldn’t let that show. There was only one soul capable of understanding the unfathomable depths of her.
This one felt so far away from her. Her face contorted momentarily, and she trapped a plaintive keening within her bones - later, when she was alone, she would allow herself to be overcome, but for now, she needed to be strong. So, bringing all her willpower to bear, Charybdis grounded herself in the present moment, reached out to touch Faolain’s shoulder lightly in greeting.
“Dere be a storm on de horizon,” she murmured, enigmatic as always. From where they stood, the horizon was not clearly visible for the trees, neither was the sky itself, but this did not seem to dissuade Charybdis from her esoteric course. “Be ready for when ‘im come rolling in, Faolain. I fear ‘im won’t be kind.” The twin foals came up behind her, lapping at her heels like water, and without attempting to lighten the moodiness she had brought upon the black Teke mare (perhaps because she didn’t know how to, or, more than that, she didn’t feel that such a boon was hers to give - the pale mare would only ever be an omen, and she held no control over whether she was a portent for good or bad; this was not her purpose), she sought for the truth she needed. “How long before I can leave dem?”
And no sooner as the words had left her mouth, the half-blind mare, with her blood-brown mantle draped over her shoulders, shifted her weight and straightened, even as the foals who’d followed her here sought sustenance from her. She was silent for a time, patiently waiting for whatever it was Faolain deigned to offer her. Answer. Caution and Warning. Judgment. She stood, stoic and unflinching, and without losing her sense of the present moment she shared with Faolain, she waded through the shallows of her memory, thinking back to the day Faolain had first found her, washed up in the wake of a fierce storm.
When she spoke again, her voice was soft and strange as it often was, but there was a certainty to it, that made clear she’d already made up her mind. “I… do not t’ink it can be understood, but dere is a journey must be made, and when de time comes, I must go alone.” And finally, she turned to look at the lean mare beside her, one who would forever shine as a luminary to the mare who was as changing as the sea.
“I cannot be sure dat I will return, Faolain. But while I can, I will be present for dem.” And maybe it wouldn’t be enough, not to appease Faolain, but the truth that Charybdis couldn’t explain was that her heart was being drawn away from this place (towards where, she could not yet discern), and that with each passing moment that she denied the pull, more and more the ceaseless aching within her would grow.
It was a pain she would willingly bear, as long as she were capable, if only for the sake of the innocent twin-souls she’d brought into the world, but there was no pretence in her, and she wouldn’t make promises she knew she’d never keep.
Having satisfied their hunger, the pair of foals made small, soft sounds of curiosity as they regarded the first creature they’d met that was their own size, and after reaching to touch the filly dark as night, they scampered about together with a flick of their curved ears and fluffy tails, their slender, pristine legs reminiscent of the salty caps of the ocean waves as they rolled in to shore.
Charybdis watched them gambol in silence, and remained with Faolain in her vigil, waiting for the red mare, SIobhan, who's scent she had caught lingering in the still air between the trees, to return to them.
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