happiness is fragile, only duty endures
Warmth. As she pulls her weary body from the sea, it surrounds her, swaddling her damp form in an invisible blanket and thawing the cold of the mainland winter from her joints. Deep as the desert's oppressive heat penetrates, however, it cannot soften the frigid ice that encases her heart, or the rigidity of her expression. The unfamiliar sight of the unending contours of this land, contrasting starkly with the familiar feeling of sand beneath her hooves, and clinging, gritty, to her grullo coat - these only serve to remind her of what she has left behind. What she must learn to forget.
As she takes a tentative few strides up the beach, Hawke feels as if they are the first true steps in the journey of her life. Sifting meticulously through the dregs of her mind, the yearling begins to cast memory after memory away from herself. Deep brown eyes glaring at her, venomous words spat from between lips. A rift that had opened between them; a careful distance that could not be bridged by the bond of their blood. Waking to the first cold dawn without Hollowpoint's sheltering body to protect her. Even that which she can remember with joy is discarded; the moment of her birth, and opening her eyes to the dark form of her mother. The laughter that had bubbled on their lips, the joys that they had shared. At the last moment, Hawke snatches a single piece back to herself before it can drift away, cupping it gently to her breast. She would keep Hollowpoint in her heart. She would always be his daughter.
If only it could truly be so simple.
The kind stranger is pressing inland, and in her wordless communication it seems she is permitting Hawke the choice of whether she will follow. Without knowledge of the perils of this bleak and unforgiving land, the painted adolescent allows the horizon to swallow El Cardo's golden form until it has vanished. Then, exhaling a wistful sigh as she thinks of lush jungle foliage and the throaty lullabies sung by frogs and cicadas, she angles herself toward the sea. Breathes a final, silent farewell to Atlantis. And then, before her will can falter, turns her back to it and walks into the desert.
Wandering without direction, the horizon soon swallows her, too.
xxy .. 1 year .. grullo tobiano .. mixed .. 15.3 hands
hawke |