PERSEPHONE

Although the clash of hooves and teeth in the war had left the Forest, Persephone remained on edge. Every day she half-expected another enemy to wash up on her shore, or to be lurking in the shadows of the trees. They haunted her dreams, leaving her restless and tired.

The fluttering of anxiety in the pit of her stomach was so familiar by now, that it would be some weeks still before Persephone would recognise it as something else.

The benefit of the residual paranoia, however, was that Persephone was always quick to locate unexpected visitors – particularly stallions. She watched the red stranger for a couple of seconds, before he noticed her presence – observant, then.

“And I you,” she replied simply, stepping out from the gloom of the thick trees to approach her guest.

“What brings you to the Forest, stranger?” Her voice was calm, not unfriendly, but slightly guarded – she was wary of strangers’ intentions, and with good reason.

Her dark eyes surveyed the red stallion with careful interest.

“I am Persephone, the leader here.”

all of your demons will wither away

mixed, bay varnish roan, 14.3hh