This jungle was full of ghosts.

Irina had abundant time to explore its depths. The things she found every day amazed her: small, brightly-colored frogs and lizards; huge, fragrant flowers; flocks of birds of all shapes and sizes, performing intricate courtship rituals when they thought she wasn’t looking; even, once, a spotted jungle cat, perched high in a tree. At night, when in the Hills all would have slept, the forest came alive, teeming with the hum of insects and the rustling of the nocturnal. The living were not the only ones inhabiting the Paradise, and at night the dead rose and wrapped themselves around her like the ever-pressing humidity. They whispered in her ear, breathed hot on her skin. She felt them as keenly as she felt the stirring within her stomach, and as the size of her belly increased, they grew more insistent.

Irina couldn’t blame them for their attention. She knew what it was like to be alone, with only the moss and the rain for company. In all honesty, they probably assumed she was one of them. She was certainly quiet enough.

All those solitary months left her with her thoughts all too often. She reflected on her brief time here, of the creamy stallion who had saved her from the hurricane so long ago... and she remembered the last time she had seen him, as vividly as if it were yesterday. She went over and over it again in her head. What had she done to make him leave? Rade had never spoken much to her, or been around at all, but she wasn’t exactly garrulous herself. She was comfortable with silence, and in a way, she liked that they could be near each other without the crutch of verbal communication. Truth be told, they hadn’t talked much during their last encounter, either. It had been autumn, though that didn’t mean much in the ever-tropical Paradise. Irina was lonely, so lonely, and desperate for companionship - so much that she’d accepted his advances without a second thought. It was painful, and new, but she wanted him. She wanted him to stay. And like a fool, she thought that giving herself to him might make him stick around.

She never once thought about the consequences their actions might bring.

By the time she knew he was gone for good, it was too late. Her stomach was too large to feasibly make the swim to the Crossing, and who would want a pregnant mare, anyway? She felt like damaged goods. Any mare stupid enough to get herself knocked up on the first try would surely not make a good addition to a herd. And what stallion would raise a child that was not his own?

It was in these lonely months that Irina wished most fiercely for her sire. He would know what to do. He would stay with her, and tell her what to expect, and walk her through everything. He was so smart; he could teach the child everything she’d somehow failed to learn, and more besides. She wished and wished for him, but he did not come. And on the late Spring day when the pain began, she knew he never would.

She paced the length of the beach, unsure and afraid, nipping at her abdomen whenever the hurt reappeared. The cramps were growing stronger, and longer, and closer together, and she darted into the jungle, finding the small, sheltered clearing she’d taken to sleeping in of late. She lay down, unable to stand and bear it any longer, and her breath came in shallow bursts. Papa had said that it hurt, but this was too much. This would tear her apart. This would rip her in half. How did other mares survive this?

Her dark mane clung to her dappled neck in strings, her brown coat covered in a fine sheen of sweat and dirt. The pain crested, rising to the limit, and as Irina pushed she cried out. Tears of anguish and sheer terror rolled down her cheeks, and with a surge of whitehot agony and a rush of blood the foal was out. She lifted her head to glance down, and noticed it encased in a clear sac. The mare reached over to break it, freeing the babe. Its coat was stained red with blood and grime, and she used the last of her strength to run her tongue over it, cleaning and rubbing life into its small body.

Irina, exhausted and overwhelmed, simply lay there for a few minutes after, watching the pink-stained filly. Once fully clean, her coat would match the color of the white-sand beaches just a few hundred yards away. She looked nothing like her parents but for her eyes, forget-me-not blue as her dam’s, staring wide and astonished at the new, harsh world she’d been so unceremoniously dumped into. “I can’t blame you,” Irina murmured, laughing bitterly. The womb was such a nice, tranquil place compared with this noisy, unforgiving existence.

She knew the filly had to nurse eventually, and so she struggled to her hooves, though every inch of her screamed in protest. In a matter of hours her child had stood, and was now suckling hungrily, leaning against her dam’s shaky hind legs for support. Irina watched, emotions raw. She already knew what she would name her; she’d had it picked out for weeks.

“Ivernia,” she murmured, heart swelling. If she was the result of all of this, all the longing and the sadness and the desolation, then maybe - just maybe - it was all worth it.

mare, tersk cross, greying smokey black, 15.2hh, ivan x earthshine.
filly, crossbreed, greying cremello roan, 15.1hh wfg, rade x irina.
played by muse.