She watched as the season's dark, angry clouds rolled in with the sea, blanketing the mountainous terrain of the Inlet in its deep shadows. With it came the usual chill, a bitter, howling wind and plummeting temperatures. Creamy plumes of carbon dioxide rose from her whiskered nostrils with every passing exhale. Winter wasn't coming. It was already here - unwavering and unforgiving - on the island of Tinuvel.
The sooty-colored mare's brilliant blue eyes blinked in rapid succession as she began to trek slowly away from the shoreline. She wobbled slightly on the worn pebbles and boulders that made up the terrain's rocky beach. But her mind was somewhere else. Not far geographically, but years ago in time. Never would Vita Nova had thought she'd be forced to spend another winter in the Inlet - not after she'd given herself to Orkaan those years ago. At the time, she had been pregnant with her first born, Nyah. The memory of her still stung, and if Nova was being honest, the mother tried her hardest not to think of the first foal she'd brought into the world. But her heart still kicked in her chest with hope that the girl was somewhere far away from here, thriving and happy. Maybe she was a mother herself. Maybe she found her father, Fallo.
Nova was old enough now to know these hopes were merely that - childish dreams and fantasy. But it was certainly rosier than the alternative. Nyah left the Peak on her own accord, as an adult. Not all that unlike Nova herself at that age. There was nothing she could have done to stop her daughter.
Yet here she was, stuck in a constant loop of deja vu, it seemed. An offending stallion arrived at the Prairie threatening her brother. And now she was being held captive per an agreement she made the devil himself, for the safety of Shamwari and the family she'd left behind on Luthien.
Tavas lingered in the distance, her blonde coat fuzzy with static from the dry, cold air. She pawed at tough reeds and ripped them from their roots.
It was easier to lie to her, and give in to Warsaw, then to fight this battle alone. And so Tavas grew up thinking the grey stallion was in fact, her sire. Nephilim drifted into the depths of her mind again. Like Nyah, she tried not to think of him, his weathered body and the intimate reunion they shared. Some days it was harder than others. As the filly grew, she could see Nephilim all through her. She wondered if Warsaw did to.
Silently, she hoped he did.
4 | Mare | Evaline x Valentine | Smoky Back Splash | 15 hh | © Vinyl |
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