Meadow

Hawke

x^aisy/ six / grullo tobiano / mixed breed / 15.3hh

From a distance, the Peak had seemed a place of legend, a place where mythological entities must surely live. The impression was strengthened by the fact that Hawke had often heard the Vulcans spoken of in hushed, reverent tones. And certainly there were some who tread lightly in the presence of the independent and indomitable mares, particularly those of them who had proven themselves to be relentless in battle. These tales and truths had interwoven in Hawke's mind to paint a picture of what shi would find there before the spotted grullo had even arrived.

What shi had found was something very different - and not at all what shi had been searching for.

Years ago, the ash-colored creature had met a Vulcan named Mouse, and the kindness of the mare had lived on in Hawke's heart long after they had parted. Though shi had often been tolerated and sometimes included, Mouse's companionship was the first time that the tobiano had experienced compassion and felt the warm glow of acceptance. And though hir conversation with Bacardi had smothered any hope that Hawke had held of being reunited with hir old friend, shi had still hoped - especially after the young stallion's kindness - to at least experience that sense of belonging again.

But since the first encounter with the Vulcan's ruler at the base of the mountain, Hawke had felt as much an outsider in the Peak as shi had anywhere else. No, more - in the Crossing, shi was one nomad among many. On the mountain, shi could claim no affinity to either caste; the stallions from the Lagoon scorned hir as one of their captors, and the Vulcans were guarded and vigilant in hir presence, as if they believed Hawke to be one of the prisoners that had been won from the Lagoon. It was perplexing, and in the inevitable solitude that followed Hawke had only the company of hir thoughts - which every day shi watched, led hir closer and closer to the truth.

Spring had come, and while some of the Vulcans had borne new life, the bachelors were filled with boisterous energy, often erupting into spars. And though shi had identified as female for the entirety of hir existence - a truth hir lack of certain anatomical features seemed to confirm - Hawke had found hirself drawn to them. After defeating the snide creature whom had boasted of his efforts in holding mares captive, the androgynous creature had withdrawn again, recoiling in both horror at hir actions and denial of the facts that shi could not bring hirself to face. Because shi was Hollowpoint's daughter, and would always remain so in both mind and heart - no matter which ways hir body chose to betray hir.

Hawke's descent from the Peak was both gradual and unplanned, but shi was not unhappy to find hirself in the familiar meadow when shi finally surfaced from the swirling maelstrom of hir thoughts. Here shi could hide amidst the unfamiliar faces, and let hirself be forgotten. With every intention of retreating into the copse shi'd been haunting before Bacardi's arrival, the painted creature crossed the open expanse warily, skirting well around those of hir own species. Their company was the last thing that shi craved - at least until hir single golden eye caught sight of the black and white stallion.

Throughout hir life, Hawke had known what it was to feel pain. To fight the gnawing, all-encompassing yet empty ache of grief. One by one life had determined to take all those whom shi had ever loved or been loved by - hir mother, hir father, every friend shi'd ever fought to make. There were times that shi had felt the need to run as this stallion did - in the hopes that eventually shi might leave the pain behind. Inevitably the incessant need to move, to run, to flee had led hir from the islands and then inevitably back again. The familiar pain touched Hawke's heart in a way that nothing else had - that nothing else could, so carefully had shi walled it off.

Somehow shi found hir hooves carrying hir toward the stallion, strides slow and tentative at first but growing in both confidence and speed a kind of courage warmed hir from within. And though shi remained ever wary - like a bird poised for flight at the barest hint of a threat - a dark muzzle reached out tentatively to brush the dark shoulder of the other as they ran side by side. You aren't alone, the touch sought to communicate. It was a silent offer to ease the burden of his pain, to share the weight of his world - if he was willing.

*hir and shi are gender-neutral pronouns