The Lost Islands
CLICK FOR IMAGE CREDITS


and into the forest i go;




evren

The autumn afternoon is quiet, with little to disturb the peace but the warble of distant birdsong and the rustle of gold and brown leaves in the wind. Evren stands with her head low and her pale back to the sun, dozing in its warmth, while nearby the gentle sounds of the herd keep her company.

She is tired: bone-tired; soul-tired; every kind of tired. Her sleep has been restless and her heart heavy ever since Feray had taken Aysu away, but her fraying relationship with her daughter has not helped things. Just earlier today Arkana had made a casual comment about wanting to get off the island for a much-needed change of scenery, to which Evren had retorted, "I don't think that's a good idea this time of year, do you?" The implication - that Arkana could end up in the same condition she had last year - had hung heavily in the air.

The resulting argument had sapped the energy from Evren's bones, leaving her morose and groggy. Now she stands half-asleep in the sun, grasping desperately at this small comfort, half-wishing and half-dreading that someone will come along and take her mind off things.

Eventually, someone does.

Her copper eyes fly open in surprise at the call. The voice is not only unfamiliar, but male, and there's tension in her belly as she shakes off the veil of sleep and navigates the trails in the direction from which the call had come.

Evren's first impression of the stallion is that he is tall - very tall. Her next is that his scent is vaguely familiar. She steps carefully through the underbrush, her expression watchful and curious, yet stoic and unsmiling. Her ears pricked, she stops a short distance away and looks him over. "Can I help you?" she says, but as the words leave her lips she recalls what Feray had confessed to her regarding Esmeray's parentage, and a mental image of the tobiano filly flashes in her mind.

Her eyes widen slightly, and some of the tension in her face melts away, though a faint suggestion of suspicion remains. "Oh," she says. "You must be Solomon. If you're looking for Feray, she's not here."

13; mutt; bay tobiano; 15.3hh
html (with thanks to riley) & character by shiva; bg by nahil naseer @nahilnaseer on unsplash



Replies:


Post a reply:
Name:
Subject:
Message:
Link Name:
Link URL:
Image URL:
Password To Edit Post:





Create Your Own Free Message Board or Free Forum!
Hosted By Boards2Go Copyright © 2020


<-- -->