Meadow

Eve was not ignorant to the fact that visiting this tree would be nearly as difficult for Solomon, for more reasons than one. They had each helped the other through more than their fair share of dark days. For a long time Eve wondered what she had done to deserve such pain; eventually, she realized the universe didn't care who you were or what you did. Accidents happened, death came for everyone. Sometimes it came sooner than one would like, but there was nothing to do but move forward. Often she wished she had come to this realization sooner, to spare herself the many days she had spent pining or brooding in her grief, or wondering what she might have changed. Yet that wish was useless, too, and so she let it go. It was incredible how much lighter she felt after she began to let go of things out of her control.

By the time Solomon came to her, her eyes were dry once more. The roaned mare leaned into her stallion's embrace, relishing his warmth and touch on this brisk autumn day. With gratitude, she mentally noted that he did not protest her thanks. On other occasions he might have tried to brush it away, but today she wouldn't have allowed it even if he had tried. Solomon was not perfect, but neither was Eve, and today was for peace, and closure, and self-compassion.

When he uttered his promise to be there, Eve believed him. Though he might have had his absences, he had always returned thus far, and usually with a good enough explanation for her. Gnome had instilled in his daughter that grudges were not worth the fuss, and she had taken it to heart - hence her steadfast forgiveness of the painted stallion. At this brief thought, she suddenly wished that her father had been able to meet Solomon.

For some reason, Solomon's approval of the name she gave her daughter mattered more than she had expected it to. Relief flooded her when he smiled and said Carine. Then, he pulled away, and she resisted the urge to protest, bewildered that he would distance himself from her in such a tender moment.

Tears welled in her eyes again as she understood. This beautiful gesture would further mark this spot, not just as a place of pain but one of beauty. Glancing from the flowers back to his golden face, she returned his smile. "I'm sure they will be perfect," she murmured. She hesitated a moment, then spoke again. "I feel lighter now. I know I'll always miss her, but it doesn't hurt as much now. And I want you, if you could, to try and forgive yourself. Not just for how you and I met, but for everything." Eve met his gaze steadily, her dark eyes shining. "I mean it, Solomon. Nobody is perfect and you have shown me time and again you are sorry. I forgive you, and-" She reached her freckled muzzle up in an attempt to caress his cheek. "I love you. Let's go home?"