Common

“ ‘Ome.” The word is an echo on the lips of Charybdis and it seems to resonate in the silence that follows, as the bedraggled white and red mare considers what, exactly, it means. How long ago had this mare resided in the Ridge? Before Charybdis had set hoof upon it? Or perhaps, in the more recent span of time when the morgan mare had wandered the Crossing, in search of what she had lost? It was possible, she supposed, that their dwelling in the Ridge may have even overlapped, for in those early days, when Faolain had first brought her to the Ridge and offered her shelter, there had been a number whose scents Charybdis had caught on the wind, but she had never ventured far from the open seashore.

In the end, the timing didn’t really matter. As it was, the Ridge stood largely empty, gravely silent, pining perhaps for Faolain, who was a far more worthy keeper.

“I’m sorry, I -” Charybdis shook her head, suddenly realising that she’d taken to wandering amidst her thoughts, and had left the spotted gold mare’s question unanswered. “De names are not familiar… T’ings like names slip away from me like de sea,” the bay splashed mare answered ruefully, lowering her head a fraction, unconsciously tightening her shoulders against some sort of self-consciousness.
“Please, tell me about dem,” she asks softly a moment later with a tilt of her head, not only as a way to provide a small sliver of comfort and hope, but also to gain ever more insight into those who had been touched by the Ridge, and in turn, may have left their imprint somewhere upon the jungle mountain.

“I leave de Ridge for a time, too. T’were de sea who pulled me back. De ones I left behind, I t’ink now dey leave me…” It was a quiet truth that Charybdis spoke, her own turbulent heart stirred by the whisper of apprehension she sensed in the other’s voice. And, though she knew little of this mare, beyond the fact that she’d once lived in the Ridge, Charybdis felt drawn to her, and her heart flooded with empathy. For all their differences - these were vast, great things - in this moment, Charybdis felt closer to this unnamed stranger than she had to any other breathing thing since she’d left a pair of colts to their fate in the Lagoon. And she almost, she almost asked if the spotted mare had heard of or come across the one she was searching for most ardently, but the half-blind Charybdis kept the name trapped on her tongue, for fear of what the truth spoken out loud would do to her empty heart. (The one she was seeking would not be found.)

It left a bitter taste in her mouth when Charybdis swallowed.

But, there was always hope. Even the darkest night was not without stars, and the ocean, it had a way of bringing back things that seemed beyond reach. (But, they never came back the same.) “Dere is no bitterness in me for dis. When I walk de trails of de Ridge, I sense somet’ing of de spirits of dem who I love.” A sad smile spreads across her pale lips for a moment, before it slips off. “If you want… You can walk de trails too. I would not keep you from de place you belong, but nor will I tie you to it, if the belonging for you is gone.”