Meadow

The cool saltwater sluiced off the dark mare's body in thick cords, dripping into the sand at her hooves. She struggled momentarily to find purchase on the shore shifting beneath her hooves. Her legs felt as if they were made of lead, and her breaths came in thankful dregs. Despite her own exhausted condition, her mahogany eyes were looking carefully over the body of her young son.

Lir was still young, being only a year and a half old. His own coat, a smattering of pale golden brown and white, was equally drenched and unkempt from their watery journey. The mare nibbled lovingly at the short hairs of his mane above his withers, urging him just past the shoreline where barren trees and foliage might provide them cover. As the pair settled on the ground, Daire went to work cleaning the boy, removing the chill and salt from his fur with her tongue.

The memory of what brought them here was still quite fresh, and she could only hope that it wouldn't affect Lir drastically in the future. They had been near the cliffs when the cave in happened. It was a miracle that they weren't more hurt than some cuts and bruises. With no way to climb back up to the herd that would prefer she disappear and no resources for them to live below, Daire had had no choice by to force herself and her young son into the cool waters of the shallow oceans to find somewhere else to survive.

It had taken them much too long to find pieces of land with other equines on it, too long to find somewhere that seemed truly inhabited by others, but Daire was altogether grateful that they had even made it this far. It had been nearly two weeks since the pair had seen fresh water, and the black mare had made sure to give any source of food to the colt as they made their way here.

The movement of her tongue was rhythmic and warm against his chilled body. A spunkier Lir would have laughed and told his mother not to groom him like such a baby, but the yearling was exhausted. And her touch was a soothing one that soon lulled him into a heavy nap, his body still upright in the pale sand.

Daire nibbled his withers gently before pulling her head away from the boy. Her tired eyes glanced warily around at their surroundings. None of this was familiar to her, and that was frightening. They had crossed sandbars and islands to make their way here that she had never seen the like of.

The mare exhaled deeply, champing softly. Oh, how she longed for a deep drink of water, for a mouthful of summer grass. It was all fading away now to the encroaching chill of fall and winter. What would she do in an unfamiliar place with a foal to depend on her? Her nostrils fluttered dryly as the mare continued to watch the landscape.

She would survive, as she always had.





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Notes: Daire (age 12) is arriving here with her year and a half old son Lir. She is newly pregnant, but doesn't know it quite yet.

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