better give my heart a listen - " />
The Lost Islands
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better give my heart a listen

PERSEPHONE

The call ripped through the silence, and Persephone’s head snapped up at the sound of her name. The voice was loud enough, but it sounded weak and panicked, and she recognised it as Silvanus immediately. Calm and collected as she usually was, a flicker of fear quivered in her stomach as she began to weave through the trees, heading in the direction of the call as quickly as she could.

She found her in a small clearing, lay beneath one of the large trees whose canopy enveloped the sunlight above. Persephone had half expected her to be labouring – it seemed the most sensible reason behind the call – but the sight did not comfort her.

The smell of blood tinged the air and saturated the ground around her. Persephone had not seen many births close up in her time, but it seemed like far too much blood. Silvanus’ head lay on the ground, inattentive to the new-born which struggled feebly beside her.

“Silvanus,” Persephone murmured, rushing towards her friend, the concern breaking in her voice.

She lowered her head to the dark mare, nudging at her cheek. Her gaze flicked between the mare and her foal, knowing her time was limited and trying to decide how best to use it. She hoped to stir Silvanus back into life, as if her condition might be able to be shook off with a little encouragement, and usher her towards the foal.

However, Persephone knew the foal didn’t have long left alone – even if Silvanus could summon the strength to turn and clean her babe it would be slow, and the child needed help now. Although it pained her, she turned away from her friend for a moment to nose at the child instead, attempting to brush the membrane that covered her nose away gently with teeth and tongue.

Persephone did not think she had ever seen anything so tiny or so helpless. Worry clawed at her heart as she turned her gaze to the foal’s mother.

“A girl, Silvanus,” she whispered feebly, trying her best to hide her anxiety and project encouragement instead. “Come on.”

all of your demons will wither away

mixed, bay varnish roan, 14.3hh



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