Common

Silence followed my questions and with each passing second I could feel the tattered remains of my heart cascading slowly downward like the petals of spent flowers. Her denial only underscored this feeling and I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned my gaze away from her faze to peer out at the landscape around us, wishing I could turn back time.

Please, tell me about dem, the brightly painted mare requested and my brow furrowed in conflict. In my heart, I could not imagine anyone forgetting my mother's name, if only because she was as dear to me as the air. Living without her for so much of my childhood had made me distant as a girl, a waif that liked to pretend to be unbothered by her loneliness and comforted by solitude. Even so, the miles of space between us did not lessen my affection for her.

The mother I had known had been a beacon in the Ridge, at least in my eyes. While not the most outspoken or aggressive of the matriarchs that ruled there, she had been the kindest in my humble opinion. I never knew a dull moment when she was home, nor lacked for another sibling to play with or a friend to make. Despite the pain she'd endure, my mother's love for her family had never wavered and I knew that I had taken advantage of her peace when I was younger.

Thankfully, the Morgan mare was speaking again, this time of her own loss, and I latched onto the change of topic gratefully, my blue gaze rising back to her face as she explained. I could empathize with her sorrow, although hearing the other side of things did not lessen my guilt for abandoning my mother.

"I'm sorry," I murmured softly, my heart going out to her. I remembered what it was like to say goodbye to my father as he left in search of my sister, but at least I'd had the grace of a goodbye. To know nothing of when they'd left or why had to be far harder than that, and I was glad to have been spared the additional pain of wondering why my father had departed. I knew, however, that my mother had not. I had not been a vocal or sociable child, and apart from a brief goodbye that morning, I had not elaborated on where I was going, nor for how long I'd planned to stay away.

How long did she wait for me? I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.

As the painted mare continued, elaborating on why she remained in the Ridge, I found myself envisioning what it might be like to return home without them. Could I bear the loneliness of living in a land that had once been filled with my family's laughter? The endless hope - which might yet go unrequited - of a reunion? It was likely unkind of me to paint such a dour future with the Morgan mare for company, but the knowledge that my mother no longer remained in the Ridge had wounded my heart badly.

"I would like that, I think. At least I will be there if my parents ever do return." The smile that lifts to my lips is faint and fickle, lasting only a moment before falling away again. I shifted and dropped my head with an indication that I would follow her lead to the Ridge now, given that I was still ocean-addled and unsure of the way myself. "And perhaps on the way I will tell you of them, so that if they do come, you might recognize them as family too."