It had been two years since the incident, yet whenever Adara closed her eyes she could still see the body and the blood that soaked the ground around it as if it had happened only moments before. At first the mare had been scared to sleep in fear that she would be haunted by the image in her dreams, and for days on end she didn’t sleep, only closing her eyes to rest when the exhaustion got too much for her and she was able to pass out almost instantly, the threat of the image not showing itself. But after a while she realized she couldn’t go through the rest of her life like that, she would drain herself out and not live her full amount of years that she would have had she taken better care of herself.
Instead, the image of the body became her strength. The strength she used to push herself farther than she had thought she was capable. It became a reminder, that any day could be her last, no matter how young she was, and that it was law that prey animals needed to be attentive at all times or risk the destruction of everything they held dear. It became a painful example of what would happen if Adara allowed herself to love someone more than anything else. Love would ruin you. It would build you up, making you feel like you were invincible and that nothing could take this away from you. It would then take this feeling away from you, brutally and violently, knocking the wind out of you, leaving you no time to comprehend what exactly just happened. She may not have loved Tali like Adara would have loved a stallion, but she loved her all the same, perhaps more than she could have ever loved a stallion.
The land she was in now, it was so different from what she had been used to, that she welcomed the change. It allowed her to have a breath of fresh air, nothing here reminded her of her past, the only thing that haunted her was the image she saw whenever she closed her eyes, but Adara knew that that wasn’t ever going away.
The mare spoke slightly accented, and for a moment Adara wondered if perhaps the mare didn’t have an accent, that she herself was the one with the accent. Maybe she had travelled much farther than she had originally thought. She was silent for a beat as she pondered this, quickly trying to decide how far she had exactly travelled. But two years is a long time to try and remember everything that she had encountered, and she soon gave up realizing that her thoughts had left a spacious silence between the pair. As El Aran moved, Adara caught glimpse of the oasis that was behind her. Her mouth salivated almost immediately, and she realized how thirsty she had been. She dipped her head in silent thanks, before trotting over to the pools edge, drinking up the sweet water.
When she had had her fill, she returned to the mare, hoping that drinking from the oasis hadn’t been a test of endurance, one that she had just failed. “Thank-you. I’m Adara.” She replied, eyes passing over El Aran’s body, her black coat contained scars, though were they from battles or an abusive stallion, Adara did not know. “If you would have me, may I join your herd?” She questioned, hating herself for the submissive state she was in. But she needed a home, she couldn’t wander for the rest of her life, and she needed safety which was provided in numbers.
“I will fight for whatever causes you deem necessary.” She said, trying to reclaim her dignity without completely screwing up her chances of being allowed to live in this land. As she spoke she arched her neck once again, her slightly stockier legs tensing as she tried to come across as physically strong as she felt, despite her current condition.