PERSEPHONE

The Forest was finally coming to life.

It had been a quiet couple of seasons since Persephone’s arrival on Luthien, but at last she returned to a place that had sounds and signs of life other than the rustling of the squirrels in the underbrush, and the twittering of the birds in the trees. Sometimes she would hear Talya’s playful shouts through the trees, even when she didn’t see her, and she would regularly graze by Bob and Aurora when she was not exploring or patrolling the borders.

It was nice to see the herd, small as it might be, beginning to grow around her. She could establish herself here, she could find companions who would make this island a home for her at last. Today, however, it was an unfamiliar set of sounds which caught her attention.

The voices of strangers, and their scents, were carried through the trees on the breeze. Persephone’s ears flicked towards them – in the distance she could hear their hoofbeats faintly, the twigs which littered the forest floor snapping beneath them. With a snort, she headed to intercept her unannounced visitors at a brisk trot, the low branches snagging at her mottled coat as she slipped between the closely-packed trunks.

It didn’t take her long to locate the group – and a large one at that – they had not ventured too far past her borders, yet they were headed straight into the Forest as if they knew the place, or at least thought they had the right to know it. There were two mares and, more concerningly, two stallions with them.

Wary, and somewhat on the defensive given that these strangers had ventured so boldly into her territory, Persephone emerged from the trees and stepping into their path. Persephone stood tall, her neck arched as her dark gaze slid carefully over each member of the strange group. She was not a large horse, but even the tallest stallion did not tower over her, so she felt as her display was quite confident enough.

“Hello,” she greeted plainly, her tone even and matter-of-fact. Her welcome and her expression was not unkind, but remained reserved and wary until she could ensure that these visitors were not troublemakers.

Persephone’s eyes flicked between each of them. There was something that struck her as slightly familiar about the creamy stallion and the golden roan mare, but she could not quite pinpoint it.

“Who are you?” she asked simply, tilting her head slightly. “What is your purpose in the Forest?”

all of your demons will wither away

mixed, bay varnish roan, 14.3hh