"If Love himself weep, shall not lovers weep,
learning from what sad cause he pours his tears?
Love hears his ladies crying their distress,
showing forth bitter sorrow through their eyes
because villainous Death has worked its cruel
destructive art upon a gentle heart,
and laid waste all that earth can find to praise
in a gracious lady, save her chastity."

As the days passed, the pain began to ease. The raw memory of Shiraz was beginning to fade. Details about his facade were hazy. She could barely remember the colt's jutting steps and wheezing that came from his poor lungs. She couldn't recall every detail of his coat. Her son's inquisitive stare however -- those round, dark eyes -- were the only features that still haunted her. What grew in the place of her anguish and grief was a numbness, a hole, a void that seemed irreversible. There was a part of her that had been washed away completely with Shiraz. She knew she'd never get it back.

The mare was standing quietly, vision blurry as she reveled in the silence of the forest. The terrain couldn't be any more drastically different than the Inlet. Maybe that's why she didn't mind it. Here, there was nothing to remind her of her past life. Nothing to make her think about Dogun or the other mares in the Inlet. It was only her thoughts and the occasional run-in with Quinn or Dexter.

Macabre knew better than to think that they were safe here, living on the fringes of another's herd. Eventually their run here would expire and they would be forced out of the Forest, likely by an angry band stallion. Macabre could smell them often. It was quite obvious another family of their kind had claimed this land. Maybe that's why Dexter was missing. Maybe he was trying to secure some sort of home for them. But she knew better than to put any kind of blind trust in Dexter, too.

The staccato cracks of twigs crushing underneath hooves caused Macabre's lobes to flick back against her poll. The mare's petite head whipped to the side, marbled eyes wide as she searched, almost frantically, for the source of the disturbance. She was on edge here, rightfully so, and her heart fluttered in her chest every time she thought she had been caught. She worried if she was competent enough to flee with Quinn, to save him if need be.

Macabre's stare fell upon Caesisus. She watched as she approached quietly, keeping her distance before her lips cracked open to talk. In turn, Macabre did not move an inch, instead she stood stoically, frozen in fear. Quinn was no where to be found and she couldn't leave the island without him. So what this mare spoke, Macabre, feeling like she had no choice, decided to respond. "Hello. I'm Macabre" She said meekly, "I'm just visiting. I hope you don't mind."