The Lost Islands
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Making love to a m e m o r y
Posted on June 30, 2017 at 06:49:55 PM by Macabre




"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."

Macabre's heart was beating so fiercely in her chest, she could hardly hear Rowena's confirmation that yes, she had returned to the Lost Islands, over the thudding pulse in her ears. When she did register her appearance as real and true, the mare let out an exasperated whimper, a pang of emotion that couldn't be identified as completely joyful nor wholeheartedly saddened. The slight chestnut mare didn't budge when Rowena came forward, and merely whimpered again as she felt her press against her shoulder. Their size difference caused the smaller mare to brace a bit at the otherwise gentle collision, and she shifted her weight around to find her footing. Nevertheless Macabre crooned her neck around to allow her whiskered chin to rest on the young mare's topline. She said nothing for a long time, only shooting calm, warm exhales through Rowena's dark mane, and listened deeply as the mare grieved.

Macabre had no idea what had led to the disbandment of Vodnik's herd. Thus Rowena's apology bewildered her. All this time she just thought Vodnik had found something better elsewhere. While that seemed somewhat out place for the intensely prideful stallion, Macabre hadn't known him well enough to gauge his loyalty to those that followed him. But the heavy-set stud had never been far from her everyday thoughts. She was left with the "what ifs," and sometimes her mind materialized such outlandish fantasies where she had fallen in love with him and had birthed his children. Reality could not be farther from these daydreams.

"Oh dear..." Macabre muttered, nudging Rowena softly along her neck as she exhaled deeply. She had so many questions, but clearly understood this wasn't the time to pepper the young mare with them. "I'm just glad to see that you are alright. And look at you. Rowena, you are a beautiful young mare. So strong. So grown up." She bumps her friend again, this time with a weak, but reassuring grin across her whiskered lips. She hesitates to mention her father, or reiterate how proud he'd be to see her now, though Macabre believes that's true. She thinks Rowena instinctively knows that too. "Are you back for good?" Macabre asks, skipping over whatever happened between then and now, knowing that if Rowena wanted to, or was ready to share her journey, she would do so freely. If not, Macabre would never press her.

"I must admit," Macabre begins, for the first time since she'd first laid eyes on Rowena, she tears her gaze away to assess the quiet woods around them. "I don't know who lives here anymore."




"Hear then how Love paid homeage to this lady;
I saw him weeping there in human form,
observing the stilled image of her grace;
and more than once he raised his eyes toward Heaven,
where that sweet soul already had its home,
which once, on earth, had worn enchanting flesh."

Macabre | 12 | Mare | Mustang X Morgan | 14.2 HH | flaxen chestnut | © Vinyl




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