The Lost Islands
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Meadow

Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.

Making love to a m e m o r y
Posted on May 2, 2019 at 02:48:18 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."

If there was any silver lining to being a prisoner of the Lagoon, it was the time Macabre spent with Cherish. The flaxen chestnut mare sought her out almost immediately once she arrived in the humid, moist terrain. Macabre had remembered the mare from months prior, when they met by chance at the Falls. Wasp was still very much just a filly then, infant in her thoughts and body. But it was Wasp's curious nature that drew Cherish to them. At the time, Cherish was suffering from a swelled chest, an ailment that came from an obvious attack from another of their kind. Macabre of course had her suspicions of Cullen and what went on in the bachelor herd, but then she saw with her own eyes while living in the Lagoon. Mares were merely play things to the stallions whom lived there. And Cullen had a sick interest in torturing a member of his own family: Cherish herself.

It look Macabre a long time to formulate an escape plan, and to find the courage to act upon it. But when she did, she knew she couldn't leave the only other mare dwelling in the Lagoon behind. Macabre bided her time while Cherish was still pregnant, waiting anxiously for the foal to arrive and to be old enough to survive what was likely to become a fast-paced, nomadic lifestyle while they ran as far as they could away from the Lagoon. Much to Macabre's surprise, her plan worked. At least up to this point.

The skinny chestnut mare lipped lazily at what remained of the vegetation around her, chewing and swallowing from her position still neatly tucked on the earth's floor. One brown ear lobe swiveled forward and then the other as the quiet calm of the peaceful morning was broken by the stirring of another. She could smell the filly in the crisp air, and as such, she unfolded her legs to rise. Macabre offered the painted filly a short smile, followed by a soft nicker - a warning to keep quiet, before she gave her coat a good shake and continued to graze, now on all fours.

But it wasn't long until Cherish's frantic calls broke through the short silence. Macabre returned the call with a shrill one of her own, and her dark eyes widened as she searched the treeline for the familiar form of her friend. It was difficult to remember that Cherish may not be used to this - to being on the run - and the stealth it required if they were to indeed be successful. MAcabre's gaze flitted to their surroundings, searching the open meadow and the brush around them for any signs of others. Her heat beat began to quicken in her chest.

"Cherish, it's all right." She said as the mare emerged. "We're all here."




"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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