she hopes someday to acquire more for her herd, to let the forest shelter others who may need it. for now though, her wounded spirit drinks in the quietude and loneliness. she patrols daily, needlessly it seems, as there have been no intruders since the spotted stallion and children snuck in. it eases her mind though to walk the edge of the place every day, to feel small among the huge pines, to hear the trickling of springs and rushing of creeks, to create a new path in the spongy dark earth by wearing over it every day. all the while she manages to keep a close eye on her ward, never leaving him out of sight for too long. she wonders how long it will take to break the fragile link between them.

day by day she grows weary of not knowing whether it will make her company feel worse or better to be addressed properly. a war rages within her on whether or not she should even care. in the end, empathy wins. she has to know at least the creatures name. it will put her at ease to try and make him more comfortable here. in the afternoon, when the sun has brightened and warmed the forest as much as it will, she wanders closer to him, still giving him a wide berth remembering the fear in his eyes when she claimed him. her voice is rough but strong, she has forgotten how to be friendly.

i don’t know your name. do you dislike the forest?

it is a small step in general but a large one for her specifically. her anger at him has dissipated and curiosity is left over in its stead.