You can tell me anything.
Evren tears her gaze from the ground and meets Persephone’s eyes, surprised but grateful for the reassurance. A weak smile tugs at her lips, and her weary eyes sparkle with unshed tears.
There’s a moment that passes between them: perhaps it’s the look of sympathy on Persephone’s face, or the small step she takes closer, that makes Evren think for a split second that she’s going to touch her. Her stomach lurches briefly, then settles when Persephone breaks the silence again.
Evren swallows against the lump in her throat, and her smile widens. She had not expected such understanding. All her life, Evren’s impulsivity has caused her nothing but trouble, so she had expected, at best, a gentle chiding from Persephone. After all, the mare owed her nothing - they were mere acquaintances, former allies, near strangers after all the time that had passed. It was only reasonable to expect Persephone to react like most everyone else did: Evren, what are you doing? Evren, what have you done? Evren, Evren, Evren!
Therefore Evren surprises herself by saying, “No, thank you. You’re too kind, but you don’t have to say all that. I wasn’t thinking, and I made a bad decision. I have to own up to that. And I couldn’t ask you to leave your home undefended.”
She feels her inner child berating herself for refusing the offer, but Evren is determined to do better, to be better. She is a mother now, after all.
For a few moments, Evren looks into the distance with a pensive expression on her face. Her eyelids are drooping with fatigue, and the smile that had been there moments before is gone. I must look like my father: always tired, always concerned, always ruminating on something he wouldn’t say. I could never understand how he carried so many worries on his shoulders, or how he let them weigh him down. How the tides have changed.
She thinks of her son alone on Salem, struggling through the sand and wilting beneath the heat. Conflicting emotions battle within her.
“I have to go back,” she finally says, with little enthusiasm.
She stands there, unmoving.
7; mutt; bay tobiano; 15.3hh
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