Meadow

I DON'T WORRY, WORRYING DON'T AGREE
THINGS THAT BOTHER YOU, NEVER BOTHER ME!

Talya lived a very simple, very happy life. She no longer made any decisions – it was easier that way – and instead followed her Mamapapa wherever he went. She forgot about things that had once made her happy that were not tethered to her Mamapapa (or so she told herself she did, though sometimes when walking through a wooded forest she would feel a strange heartache and something in her belly that made her sick). She forgot about things that might make her sad, too. She was very, very good at that after all.

“Talya,” her father’s voice was cold. He always talked that way to her now. Short. Impatient. It was okay though, Talya knew he had his reasons. She flicked her ears and looked at him, bright-eyed and innocent like. Though she’d grown and matured, she still had very foal-like behaviors that made her seem eternally young. “Stay. Put.” He emphasized the words through a clenched jaw, his ears twisting back as he veered close. His eyes jumped over hers.

“Tell me what I just said.” He demanded.

“Stay put!”

“What does that mean you’re going to do?”

“Stay… put?”

He blew a sigh low and slow through his lips. “Yes,” he ground out, “I know that. But what does that mean, Talya?”

“It… It means…” Her voice shook slightly, and she willed it not to. Mamapapa got mad when she showed him that she was afraid of him. Talya swallowed. We’re not afraid, we’re not afraid… we’re never afraid with Mamapapa. We’re happy with Mamapapa. We’re only afraid when we’re not with Mamapapa. “It means I will stand right here and not leave until you tell me to.” She pushed out in one breath, the words smashing nervously into one another.

Mamapapa smiled and the nerves inside her body relaxed.

“Good, Talya.” He glanced around them and then back at her. “Hide in the underbrush and don’t move until I come back to find you. Don’t talk to anyone, do you understand me?”

Fear again.

“Mamapapa… where are you going? Why can’t I go with you?” Distress crept into her voice. The last time she and Mamapapa had been separated he had taught her exactly why it would never happen again. Talya had swore through tears, her chin tucking a lifeless, stiff, slowly growing-cold little body up against her chest, and promised him again and again that she’d learned her lesson and she’d never again leave him.

His ears flattened and Talya’s heart sank with dread. She’d asked the wrong questions. Her head dropped submissively, and her body tensed, waiting for the strike.

It didn’t come.

“Stay put. Hide. Don’t talk to anyone. I’ll be back for you shortly.” He said instead and snapped his tail, turning about to charge off into the surf and leaving her all alone.

It was the first time in four years she was without him. So close… her heart willed her to walk to the opposite side of the island, walk into the water and swim until the woodland-soaked air of Luthien filled her lungs. Tears immediately stung her eyes and she violently shook her head back and forth so much it offset her steps, making her dance nervously in place. The whites of her eyes flashed as they rolled.

“No! No, no, no, no!!!” She cried in anguish at her own mind, tormenting her so.

Why… why had Mamapapa brought them back here? Weren’t they happy far, far away from here? Wasn’t that what he’d said? Wasn’t that what he’d promised? He’d promised her!!! Never again! Never ever again!

And now he was gone, just a dot with his head bobbing above the sea, getting smaller and smaller as she stared in anguish after him.

That had been her morning.

Now it was afternoon and she’d done as Mamapapa asked her to do. She had hidden, and any time she sensed a horse nearby she’d tucked further into the underbrush, hoped she remained downwind and stayed as silent as she possibly could. She’d closed her eyes so she wouldn’t be tempted if she saw them and flattened her ears to her poll just to try and block out the noise of them nearby. It worked her into a sweat, and the longer time went on and the more energy she had to expel, the more and more tired she became.

And hungry. She was hungry, too. As if on cue her stomach grumbled rather loudly and Talya swung her neck to nip at her belly. “Shhh,” she hissed at it, “be quiet!”

Talya swung her head forward and, through the gap in the underbrush, looked at the lush grass lying just beyond her reach. Her stomach growled again. She glanced, worried, toward the last place she’d seen Mamapapa, but he wasn’t back yet… would he really be that mad at her if she left her hiding spot just to eat? For the next hour or so she fought, taking one step forward and then being filled with a horrible fear that made her scramble back a few awkward steps, then go completely still when she realized she’d made too much noise. He was in her head, always.

At last the need to obey one of the simplest commands pushed Talya like a frightened doe from where she’d been hiding. She placed her hooves gingerly, twitched her ears this way and that, and swung her head to constantly observe every angle any stranger could be. The further she went the more she realized there was no one around and the calmer she became. If she had nothing to fear, she could forget what she was supposed to fear, and she could be happy.

She even smiled a little bit.

Talya kept walking until she found what she thought would be a fairly nice place to graze her fill and was close enough to rush back to her coverage if Mamapapa came and got angry with her for moving. Again, not wanting to think about that, she shrugged the thought off and picked up her hooves to trot into the little tree-scattered clearing. It felt good to move her muscles and she was tempted to run but pulled herself up short with a hefty snort. She glanced around her…

And saw a mare. An unassuming, gentle-eyed, thick-boned mare.

And Talya froze, wide-eyed and fearful all over again.

“YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO SEE ME!”