pay heed the squall Posted on January 4, 2023 at 10:54:06 AM by charybdis
Since the taking of Rivka, Charybdis had roamed her borders unceasingly, unable to rest easy. The night hours were the worst. No matter how doggedly she tracked the borders of her Ridge, every little sound had her on edge. Who would she lose next, she couldn’t help but wonder and worry. Faolain? The half sighted mare felt Faolain was never far off from her, though just as a shadow was imperceptible without the harsh light of day, in the darkness of the jungles of Atlantis, the black mare wandered, unseen and unheard. Charybdis hoped this would be enough to protect her.
Or Wulfric, the enigmatic wanderer who knew the hidden depths of Atlantis perhaps even better than Charybdis herself? Though she knew him perhaps even less than she knew Rivka, Charybdis would have given herself over for him if it had come to it, for fear of what might have become of him if he were forced out of the shelter of the shadow of the Ridge.
Truth be told, it was more than just fear of further loss that kept her awake at night. It was guilt. She should have fought harder for Rivka, but she’d been concerned for the babe growing inside her. Now the young mare was far from home, trapped in that swampland where once she had gone for guidance. She had gone in search of her lost girl, but had run afoul of a snake who had only stirred her wrath, and left her feeling bitter and bruised in heart. Having to leave Rivka there, in that place where she had left her sons…
With a toss of her head, Charybdis forced herself to focus on the present, but she wasn’t quick enough to dodge the sting that needled at her heart every time… Drawing in a breath that didn’t steady her nearly so much as she needed it to, the pale mare hunched her red-brown shoulders and weathered the wave of grief that washed over her, just as it had so many times before.
Minutes later, damp cheeks prickling from the traces of salt that was all that gave evidence to the sorrow she’d suffered in her solitude, she carefully picked her way along the jungle that bordered upon the Harbour’s inland edge, turning her thoughts to that which troubled her far closer to home.
After the young silver haired male, the one Charybdis most feared losing was the mare Drogon had brought with him from Tinuvel. Though Charybdis had not had the chance, nor in truth felt the need, to seek her out, she feared someone snatching the blue mare away from the Ridge. These days, the splashed mare was uncertain were she stood with the brown-black stallion, but he had returned, and so long as he wished it, he would be welcome here.
And she hated herself for being glad that it was Rivka and not Svenja that had been taken.
Charybdis didn’t think she could face Drogon if she let him down again, even though Rivka was precious to her in a way that the wayward warden of the Ridge didn’t know how to explain, nor yet even fully comprehend. In part, this was why —
A call rang out, not far off, just as the signs left by a stranger crossing into the jungle that were hers to protect - the beating heart of Atlantis - assaulted her senses. Despite the recognition that this was not an attack on her and hers - no thief announced themself in such a manner, without boast or taunt - Charybdis felt anxiety seize hold of her as she dashed toward the summons, leaping through overgrown leafy shadows that shrouded hidden trails, like little rivers of verdant foliage that led her to where she needed to be.
Bursting into view with all the intensity of a gathering storm crouching upon the horizon, the red mantled mare eyed the lithe interloper with guarded suspicion, which slowly ebbed like the tide. Taller the golden mare may be, Charybdis was not daunted, and after a moment she relaxed somewhat and flicked an ear. “I am called Charybdis,” she said after several moments. “Please, rest a moment, drink what you need to feel refreshed.” No sense in giving this stranger reason to dislike her - the jagged spine of stone that dominated the sky here knew well enough that Charybdis had no need of more misfortune.
Perhaps it was a trick of the dappled light, but she squinted with her seeing eye nonetheless, noting the leanness of the white patched mare, and seeing a delicate trace of a curl to her ears. It reminded her of another shadow figure, one who was far, far away from her.
“Den you tell me where you come from, and what you want of me.”