Volpe
"Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love.
That is our great glory, and our great tragedy."
Just as she was ready to turn away from the foreign forest and disappear back into the waves to return to her little hovel of a home on the crossing, she had been discovered. Pacing for what seemed to be years the girl must have been easy to spot, being the only thing moving about rapidly in a place that was otherwise quite still and serene. Volpe was too on edge to see the beauty in this cold place, too nervous to feel the comfortable pinch of the cold against her skin, and to notice that her coat had dried with small rivulets of ice speckled around her belly from the remaining moisture that had clung to her skin. As she paced, she thought of things that she didn't normally think of; whether or not it was best for her child to leave the newborn here shortly after birth, or whether it was best for the father to pretend that the infant would never exist.
For now, not a single soul in the world knew of her current condition, save for the perlino mare currently pacing on the edge of her one-time lover's home.
The woman that found her was red in color, contrasting brightly against their white surroundings where Volpe blended in. It was no difficult feat to disappear into the snow when it came to the skinny moonchild. Her skin was gift from someone that wished for her to disappear into the white world, to be unseen by those that might otherwise hurt her. Unfortunately, thanks to her pale skin she always appeared to glow like a ghost under the moonlight, and during the spring when the lands were flush with greenery and there were babies about frolicking with their mothers close at hand, the lean mare stuck out like a sore thumb. Looming above the tall brush of the crossing, she would become a target in the spring.
Turning her head to one side, she stares at the heavily bloated and frighteningly large mare hobbling in her direction. Pausing in her constant pacing, the woman stares with amber-brown eyes, watching as the red mare's belly bobs from side to side, making her arrival almost comical, but still she is greeted with a heavy stare and ears that instinctively flick backwards towards the wanderer's pale mane. Not necessarily a friendly creature, Volpe remembers why she was brought here and takes a step back from the roan mare, preserving her space and still maintaining her slightly aggressive stance. It was clear that she did not want the stranger getting too close- for her sack and the child that she bore. “No.” She answers flatly, bashing the idea that she belonged here at all against the wall and shattering the idea. “I'm neither.”
She doesn't know enough to be grateful that someone has decided to greet her. |
