Meadow

The small mare jerks sharply back from Kore’s careful touch. She, too, shies back a pace or so in alarm, throwing her head up and flagging her whitecapped tail. What had she done wrong this time? Kore watches the filly struggle to rise to her own hooves and filters through her actions of the past few minutes, finding nothing obvious - and then her eyes settle on her dam’s withers, where the ghosts of someone’s blunted teeth mark their subtle presence, and understands.

Her heart drops into her stomach, cold. Her gaze flicks back to the filly, now nursing. Daphne - bright, innocent, undeserving - comes to the front of her mind, and Kore’s small ears press back at the memory of her and what was done to break her into so many jagged pieces. Apollo had placed his own marks upon her sweet friend, had shattered her innocence due to his own selfishness and greed, placed a child in her womb against her will and left her utterly alone to clean up the mess he’d made. It had burned Kore then, as if from the inside out, a searing fury eating through her stomach and filling her ribs with hot bile. She’d had to act then, to do something and put the burden of her rage onto somebody more deserving of it.

It burns her now to think of what could have been. It should be Daphne here with her own tiny daughter, tired and haggard but alive and protected by someone who cared for her.

It should be, but it wasn’t, and that was all Kore’s fault.

The red mare moves, then, forcing Kore out of her downward spiral. She tastes copper on her tongue, remembering the bite of the raspberry thorns, and she takes a small step forward, lining herself up along the mare’s side as she sways like a bough in the wind. “Lean on me, if you need,” she offers, angling her dished head respectfully away from the pair. Her dark eyes scan the trees, ever alert for sudden movement, and her voice comes low in the still air between the sounds of the filly’s eager nursing.

“My name is Kore,” she says. “Take a moment and rest.

“There’s a boulder not too far from here.” A smile glances briefly over her lips, allowing a bit of wistfulness to color her tones in shades of winsome pastels. “A friend showed it to me, once… it has good cover.” Her dark eyes dart to the jeweled mare’s face, gauging her strength. “It was a perfect place to heal myself away from the world, when I needed it.”

Kore pauses for a beat or two, maintaining her vigil. Her question comes cautiously, backed with the knowledge that one false start could cause the stranger to bolt into the untraceable abyss, lost to the wilds - and, possibly, to her pursuer - forever.

“Would you like me to take you there?”