In the soft lavender light of dusk, Evren watches Persephone quietly slip away from the herd. At first she thinks nothing of it, for it’s about this time that Sephy normally patrols the border. Several weeks ago, Evren might have accompanied Persy, but now Evren is tethered by the small, soft body at her side. She looks down at Arkana, who has just finished nosing for milk and has curled up in a heap on the soft spring grass, her head nodding sleepily just above her legs. Evren’s lips curve in a smile and her heart swells with love, and for a time she feels the most at peace that she has in months.
Yet as the evening slips into night and Persephone does not return, Evren’s stomach begins to tense with worry. She becomes restless, trying and failing to doze multiple times as the rest of the herd settles down for the night. The irrational part of her fears the worst - that Warsaw has finally come - but then she remembers the way Sephy’s huge belly had swayed back and forth as she had slipped away from the herd. Could it be?
Finally Evren can bear it no longer, and after asking a herd member to keep watch over her sleeping daughter, she leaves in the direction Persephone had gone. It’s not difficult to find her trail despite the dark; there’s a particular smell in the air, half-hidden beneath the heavy scent of rain, that confirms Evren’s suspicions and quickens her step. As the forest thickens around her, however, Evren struggles to locate Sephy, and her pace is slowed to a crawl. She peers through the shrubbery, following the tangy scent of afterbirth, and finally comes upon Sephy well-hidden in the underbrush. The roan looks tired, but she is standing, as is the new little life beside her.
Evren freezes and looks at the perfect little scene before her, almost unwilling to disturb it. Her heart had been so full earlier, as she had looked down at her daughter, but now it is fit to burst. “Sephy,” Evren finally whispers, when she has found her voice again. She takes a few careful steps closer, a smile broadening on her face as she looks over the filly. “She’s just incredible. How are you feeling?” Evren’s eyes slide to Sephy, her eyes warm and full of pride.
10; mutt; bay tobiano; 15.3hh |
