The Lost Islands
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i heard a wild flower

as I wandered the forest, the green leaves among, i heard a wild flower singing a song

the petite mare appreciates the quiet gentleness of his movements and the easiness of his voice. these mannerisms remind her of watching birds, moving with such cautious softness so as not to startle them into flight. it was clear that the stallion could sense her timidness and genuinely cared. after spending weeks..months.. years now, really tiptoeing around shamwari because of how badly she felt over the whole situation is was nice to stand on somewhat even ground for the first time in a while.

her breath has slowed and leveled after the swim and the disorienting few minutes adjusting to the shifting sand and so, when he suggest they proceed inland, she nods politely, dipping her ivory head toward the golden sand. she was eager to find shade, she realized. the sun had never shone so harshly in the prairie and she is thankful that soon the seasons would change. perhaps the heat would not be so stifling with the arrival of autumn.

petal lengthens her stride to match the bay stallion’s steps, grateful that he takes his time and is careful to take the easiest path. her pale blue eyes pay close attention to the trail that weaves through the dunes, wondering if someday she would be allowed to wander. she catches the way bahadir regards this land, with glowing pride and familiarity. he is regal in a much different way than shamwari was. she doesn’t reply to his remark about the dunes in kind but she does offer a small smile. she will try to see this beauty.

she can feel her heart thud to a stop at his request. or is it a demand? despite her efforts to subdue it she feels a stiff shudder course through her small body and her muscles coil uncomfortably. the cream colored fae turns her eyes to the sand and she clears her throat gently. i have little to tell really. i have resided in the prairie for some time now. i have two daughters… they are nearly grown now. the words fall out softly, like the first drops of rain before a storm, disjointed. she didn’t dare think about the events that had brought her here. her plea to shamwari to help end pain of their relationship and start fresh…. how jabari hadn’t returned.. had he found someone else in the lagoon? she feared if these things started to spill from her lips she might would shrivel up into nothing with the sadness.

p e t a l

mare : 6 : perlino dun : arabian mustang mutt : 13.3 : kafkaesque

s t o c k ~ c a l i t h a - l e n a @ d e v i a n t a r t



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