When the fight was finished and Mariael was left bruised, bleeding, and defeated, she left the Inlet as if she were going to walk into the belly of the Bay but turned instead to trail its border. She couldn’t fathom facing her father or facing Maziel. She knew Nephilim would be disappointed in her; how many times when she was young had he talked on and on about the importance of Tinuvel remaining united? Would he take the Bay back from her after what she had done? Would he tell her he’d spoken too soon and it was clear she wasn’t fit to be a leader?
Mariael’s heart ached. She’d only held control of the Bay for a season since their return but already she felt leading was a part of her.
Though her travels were slow (she limped, having taken a considerable hit to her left shoulder which would eventually bruise), Mariael eventually made her way to stand at the shore of the Bay’s lesser traveled beach. Leaving from this beach would mean a harder, longer swim to Crossing, which in her state, would leave her further exhausted by the time she made it to the opposite island. The alternative was to risk crossing paths with her family and she would rather push herself to near death than face them now.
Mariael plunged into the surf, pinning her ears back and hissing with a sharp inhale as the saltwater stung open wounds (particularly the superficial gash on her cheek). Each stroke of her front left leg ached and scrapes and cuts she hadn’t assessed stung anew along her body as the ocean invaded them. It was a miserable swim, enough to make her feel dizzy the further along she went as she clenched her jaw and strained against all the aches and pains. Just when the exhaustion was becoming too much and her strokes were not so powerful, Mariael’s hooves scraped sand.
For a long while she stood, shaking as the ocean tide pulled out and pushed in around her body.
Mariael walked with a slow pace along the edges of the main island, making her way toward the roar of the Falls. She limped as she walked, her left front leg made temporarily lame by overexertion. A careful path to the Falls kept her away from most of the mingling equine and gave her an uninterrupted path toward the crystal, clear water stream. Mariael lowered her head to suckle at the water, gulping it down greedily.
Along her body were glaring red scrapes and cuts, their color seemingly bolder due to her pinkish cream, pale coat. It was more than clear she’d been in some sort of altercation.
Finally becoming aware of her surroundings, Mariael lifted her head and sent a slow scan to see if there were any figures she recognized. There, directly across the shallow stream, was a stallion she knew well enough. Mariael’s eyes narrowed and her ears turned back as her back hooves drew a step back, moving her body away from the bank of the stream. She was too tired to be as explosive with him as she had been in the past, but she made it clear she wasn’t overly joyed to see him there now.
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