PERSEPHONE

The day had come.

The cry made Persephone’s heart leap against the cage of her chest, and her head snapped up instantly. She had not been sleeping much lately, and the cry had disrupted little more than a doze. Instinctively, somehow, she felt she knew that this was no ordinary cry for help. This heralded something darker, something much more dangerous than anything the Forest had ever seen before.

A cold chill of purpose seemed to settle over Persephone.

She turned to her daughter, her own miniature, and looked deep into her eyes, just in case this might be the last chance she got to do so.

“Sabran,” she hissed, her voice urgent. “Go and hide, where I showed you – now.”

Although only weeks old, the filly knew better than to argue. Her earliest development had been learning where her mother wanted her to go when the bad things happened – the closest, darkest parts of the Forest where a fully-grown horse could barely fit, and which any stranger could easily get lost in for hours.

The child sunk into the shadows. Persephone did not know if Warsaw knew she had had a child – she had scarcely left Luthien during her pregnancy, except for the most unavoidable trips, so the circle of those who knew about Sabran was still relatively small, but she could not trust for certain that no wandering eye or tongue had caught wind of her situation.

As soon as she had watched her go, Persephone turned on her heels and headed towards to source of the commotion. By the time she arrived moments later, chaos had already descended on the Forest. She could hear the sounds of strangers trampling through her home, looking for nothing but trouble, but she could only see the culprits of this entire drama.

For a moment, things swam incomprehensibly in front of Persephone’s eyes – a dead body, a new-born colt, over which stood Dances With Wolves, one of the Forest’s newest residents. Hannah was close by, and Tarek, their own children at their heels. Then there was Warsaw and Cullen, of course, whose appearance was finally no longer a threat or a bad dream, but a real, physical presence in her home. Cullen was snaking towards the newborn, while Warsaw leered towards Hannah.

Time seemed slow, for a moment, as she watched Tarek lunge to intercept Cullen, and then, suddenly, Rowena leap from the shadows to join the attack. Indira appeared also, seemingly headed to usher the foals away. A young mare Persephone didn’t know seemed to catch up then, coming from the same direction as Warsaw and Cullen, and leapt into the fray.

Persephone let out a furious cry, and bounded towards the chaotic group.

“Get those children away from here,” she snapped at whoever was closest as she drew towards the group – the older foals could heed her words themselves at least, if they had any sense, but that new-born and the others were at serious risk of getting trampled accidentally if they didn’t move – if Cullen or Warsaw didn’t kill them first, that is.

In the couple of seconds it took for Persephone to reach them, she had to make her decision. Seeing Tarek and Rowena clashing with Cullen and the youngster, Persephone instead forced herself between Warsaw and Hannah. Her dark eyes sought Warsaw’s as she drew in front of him, and she was filled with the fury of the memory of what he had done to this very same mare those few seasons ago.

Without coming to a halt, Persephone’s momentum carried her into Warsaw’s personal space. She snapped first at his face – one side, and then the other, and then at his neck as she barged towards his chest, threatening to collide with him if he did not step back.

all of your demons will wither away

mixed, bay varnish roan, 14.3hh