She hated this place.
But it wasn’t because of the painful memories, or that she once ruled beside a highly influential and adored stallion. She hated it because she wanted nothing more than to leave it all behind her -- just as he had left her. But she couldn’t. No matter where she’d gone, no matter who she’d loved, Tinuval called to her. Pulling at every heartstring she had. And she’d put up a tenacious fight, for she’d not thought to set foot here for the better half of fourteen years.
”Fourteen years” she breathed out loud.
Where had time gone?
Yet as she pulled herself from the sea, an icy breeze gave the matriarch a painful reminder that she was a survivor. Her nostrils were flared with every heavy breath that she exhaled, and the cold air made her throat feel frosty with every needy gasp. In her advanced age, swimming probably wasn’t the smartest of choices, but she was nothing short of stubborn. She always had been, and she always would be. That had been her appeal, and it was part of what made her such a wonderful ally to have.
As she looked upon the familiar trees and stones, Saffron felt an almost unreal flash to the past, back to a day when she was younger. Like she was reliving the moment that she first arrived here, except this time, Jareth wasn’t here to nibble and lick her, sharing warmth while they dried on the icy, rocky shore before he led her deeper into the snowfall, where his herd had congregated. Instead, she was alone.
Painfully alone.
The woman banishes such thoughts from her mind, and instead, relies on the only thing she’d ever truly had; herself. A shake or two slung the majority of the sea that clung to her, and she scaled the rocky shore inland. Icy flakes clung to the shag of her long black and grey mane, peppering her body with shards of snow. But saffron didn’t mind -- such was the way of nature, and soon enough, the warmth of her body, no matter how much of a husk it was from her glory days, would eventually pick up to warm her once again.
As she traveled one of her own personal paths, pressing deeper into the Bay, the scent of the sea and pine was no longer the only thing that crossed her path. There were horses here -- something she should have expected. The back of her mind chastises herself for any hopefulness she’d have felt -- of course there would be horses here. After all, Jareth’s legacy had long since been wiped out. And surely, hers had too. Legendary as the pair had been during their reign upon the islands, it only took a lifetime or two for a name to be forgotten.
Finally, Saffron comes to her favorite spot. A small canopy of evergreens huddled together that overlooked the rocky shore. She huddled close to the largest of the trees, paying little mind to the mounds of powder that’d collected upon the draped branches, only to lay down, allowing her head to hang under one of said branches. It was mostly dry, and there was some semblance of warmth underneath. She could only partially fit, but it was certainly more favorable than being out in the open.
Quickly, the mare became comfortable, and a little bit more warm -- which only meant one thing to the old matriarch. She closed her amber eyes, and would enter a well-earned nap.
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