Falls

m e n k h e t

darkness pools in her veins, bubbling like tar, hot and angry. each step is too far but somehow not far enough. inescapable loss cripples her senses, rendering her dull to every noise, every sight. it has been only a week, but it feels like seconds, and an eternity both. it could not happen again. it is the one thing, other than anger, that takes a hold of her. the impossibility of it ever happening again. it wouldn’t.

the struggle is apparent in her features. her movements are too severe, too violent. she drives each hoof into the ground with a silent vehemence and stares ahead with both ears plastered to her neck. every ounce of distaste she has felt in her life has culminated to these moments and she feels them lingering like bad food on her tongue. regret, sorrow, and red hot burning anger. her trudge ends abruptly at the edge of a stream and she stares down to see the image of herself in its reflective waters. she swam most of the night and in the cool light of dawn a small haze of steam rises off her back. her body is dark, smattered with black hairs that almost make her appear bay/black except for the light bronze cream color that shines at the bottom of her ribs from her elbow to her stifle and trails a short way down the insides of her legs. her face is framed similarly, dark and sooty across her forehead and down half the length of her face but outlined here and there with a pale bronze. her eyes are also dark, so close to black that it is hard, without close scrutiny, to discern her pupil. looking into the glossy water with these hard dark eyes, she sees nothing but the vacant space at her side that should be filled, that had been filled such a short time ago, with a colt that looked so similar to herself.

she could imagine him there, tugging mischievously at her mane, or taking a long drink beneath her hip. his big innocent brown eyes peeking from behind long black lashes. and then flashed another image, of his tiny little body in a broken heap, breathless, lifeless. and standing triumphantly above him, the child murderer, her own father. it was the second time a precious little life had been stolen from her. it would be the last. jealousy had turned her father into a cruel disgusting monster. her only hope at this point was that sorrow and rage would not do the same to her.

memories clouded her eyes as she stared at the water, memories of both the children she had lost. seshat, her daughter and first child had been lost in a terrible accident, playing with other foals too closely to the rivers edge. the current had been too swift and terrible for even menkhet to save her. the boy, khonsu had been killed by someone whom she had trusted to keep him safe. this echoed over and over in her mind, that it was her own fault for trusting her father, that she should have known better. khon had been so eager to get to know his grandsire, so trusting and willing, and she had delivered him like a lamb to slaughter. she might never forgive herself, but someday, when she regained her strength, her father would know her wrath and vengeance.

mare : 5 : sooty buckskin : arabian mutt : 15.2 : kafkaesque
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