Falls

m e n k h e t

lost in the darkest, vilest corners of her mind she could have stood there for days, weeks maybe. running wretched scenarios over again and again until either she snapped in anger or despair. the more she thought about her problem, the more clear it became that there was no solution, only revenge, and that, she feared, would not soothe her ill spirit. she had fallen into despair deeply when seshat was lost, wasting away to bones before the promise of a new life growing inside her finally spurred her into regaining her life and hoping for a future with happiness. she had not loved their sire deeply, but there was mutual affection and she was a born-to-be mother despite her failures. when khonsu arrived he was a balm to all her wounds, easing the pain, though never erasing it, of losing her daughter. his quiet inquisitiveness delighted her at every turn and he was fiercely brave, causing her to laugh at his every quest. why. why. why. that was the question her mind always returned to.

menkhet’s father had always been somewhat of a tyrant, abiding by ancient laws and traditions, but she had never seen him as a monster. she had many sisters, but looking back, she finds it somehow impossible that she never had a brother. now, she realizes the untruth in this, the disgusting, impossible, horrible reason why. jealousy, tyranny, and the desire to reign forever had led her sire to eliminate any new potential leader of their herd… how many had he killed? how many sons and grandsons had suffered? how many of her sisters, her aunts, her mother, had sons that never lived past weaning? this thought sickens her. it sends her into flights of agony, thinking that if she had only known she could have stopped this so long ago, somehow. but instead, it took her too long to fit the puzzle together and she is left staring at its vile image.

she did not notice the figure approaching her until she heard his voice. it startled her from her stupor and her immediate response was to back away, pinning her ears even further into the thick black hair at her crown. her eyes, foggy with sentiment, struggled to focus on his pale form. she fought to pull herself together, swatting her tail in an agitated manner and holding her head uncomfortably high. this stranger was injured, or had been, and spoke gently, but she had been fooled by the stronger sex before. she saw a flicker in his eyes as he noticed the empty space beside her, maybe concern, maybe pity. the recognition of this ignited her anger and sadness again.

i am not your concern. what do you want?

she spits the words out, her voice scratchy from disuse. she fails to see how she could help this partially lame creature, being a stranger to this land and in the condition she is in. for a week she has barely eaten, and already it shows in the shadows lining her ribs and the jauntiness of her hips. she is in a sad state to be sure. she speaks again, an afterthought, and regrets sharing so much, though it seems like so little.

there is nothing you could do to disturb me more than i am already.

she lowers her head some, taking a less threatening stance though her body is still poised for action. one ear remains always pinned while the other flickers in his direction. her scowl is a resolute fixture and her hard dark eyes challenge him, despite the feeling in her soul that says he is not the creature who deserves challenging.

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