Ever since the war, the Forest has lost its members one by one: some vague acquaintances that had only stayed a short time, others dear family members like Indira. Most of them had simply disappeared without a trace, and no indication as to whether they had left willingly or not; several more - like Hannah - had become casualties in the heat of battle all those months ago. It has left the Forest quiet and scarred. They are all healing from what happened, but it’s a slow and painful process.
The weight of grief and not knowing what’s happened to everyone has given Evren many sleepless nights over the past year, and the absence of Creed has not helped matters. Evren had spied the little black mare speaking to a handsome young stallion on more than one occasion. He was Roheryn, who had grown up next door if Evren remembered correctly, and who had since founded his own herd in the Badlands and become a trusted alliance of the Forest. After Creed’s disappearance, Evren had deduced that Roheryn had finally coaxed the mare into the ocean and back to his home: something which had left Evren feeling impressed and surprised, if a little worried and hurt that the mare had not said goodbye. Other than Persephone, Creed was the first true friend Evren made in the Forest, and she feels her absence as keenly as she would miss one of her own legs. She thinks of the mare often: is she all right? Had she managed the swim okay? Is Roheryn treating her well? What if something terrible happened to her? Will Evren and Persephone ever see her again?
Evren is grazing beside her daughters on a cool autumn day when a call rings out from the direction of the beach. Evren’s head jerks up and a thrill runs through her at the familiarity of the voice. Could it be? She lurches into a trot without hesitation, her white-streaked body winding through the undergrowth until she breaks out onto open grass and the wind hits her full force. Before her is the familiar dark and lithe form of Creed, stark against the pale gray of the rolling sea; Persephone has already answered the mare’s call, and Evren breaks out into a wide smile as she rushes to join them with a shrill, ecstatic whinny.
“Creed!” she exclaims as she reaches the pair, reaching out to bump the mare’s muzzle with her own. Creed is still sodden and stinking of salt from her swim; it’s strange to see the mare in such a state, but Evren feels pride bloom in her chest. “Look at you! It’s so good to see you; I’m so glad you’re all right! Where have you been?”
12; mutt; bay tobiano; 15.3hh |
