Desert

She is silent for a few moments in the aftermath of Cain’s speech, overcome by the gratitude that swells in her chest. It is warmer and lighter than the air that fills her lungs, and lifts her spirits in a way that no simple breath has ever managed. Yet in some perplexing way, it also brings her closer to the tears that she has held within herself— close enough that Chelle does not trust herself to speak. Instead, she indicates their departure with a tip of her head, turning her slender body wordlessly towards the waves. Falling into step at the piebald stallion’s shoulder, the red-haired girl suppresses a shudder at the hungry way the sea rises to meet them. But there is a small comfort in knowing that Cain will not allow any harm to come to her.

No more than she has already suffered, at least.

The swim is as silent as their departure, and guilt quickly adds its burden to Chelle’s weary body. She had made a promise, after all. One she still held every intention of keeping, only… she didn’t know where to begin. So many threads have woven together to form the frayed tapestry of her life that it is impossible to decide which may have been the key in determining her fate. Perhaps her path to exile began when her father died. Or maybe when she’d first dreamed of freedom in some wonderful elsewhere. Or maybe it had all started before she was even born; when her mother had been captured, or when her grandsire had first begun to grasp for power. Who could say which strand had foreordained this, and what the consequences of plucking it away might have been?

These thoughts chased her for the entirety of their long swim, churning the pool of her thoughts even as her hooves churned endlessly at the choppy surface of the sea. Yet for all the uncertainty that continues to gnaw at her, the freckled mare isn’t unhappy. In fact, despite the weariness and heartache she is somehow more content than she has been in a very long time. And scrambling up the shore beside her dark-furred companion, Chelle seeks to communicate this newfound serenity in a gentle smile. Her jade-green eyes hold his brown briefly as well, before flitting away to regard the bare sand and alien vegetation. The world seems emptier here, its flaws exposed for every living creature to bear witness to.

But she can find the beauty in its simplicity: in the flat plane of sandy earth marked by windswept ripples, and the broad expanse of blue sky overhead.

Welcome. And I'd love to hear anything you want to tell me. Feel free to ask any questions of me, as well. I have nothing to hide. These words find the amber tobiano in the midst of her introspection, and she almost laughs at the connection her thoughts draw. Like his home, Cain does not seek to mask the truth of his character but instead displays it even more proudly than the scattering of scars that mark his black-and-white coat. Chelle wonders about those, and has to stop herself short of brushing her lips across the dark pucker of one at the base of his neck. But she does not ask— not yet, anyway— because she has a vow of her own to keep.

“I can see why this place might have called to you,” the golden woman begins haltingly when they pause at the oasis, her gaze distant where it follows the gentle sway of the palm-fronds. “A year ago, I might not have appreciated your Desert. But time and solitude can change many things, Cain— as I’m sure you already know.” Her heart has begun to flutter with… fear or grief or both, Chelle doesn’t know. But she steadies herself with a deep breath, and continues.

“I was raised to know my place, and taught that duty was far more important than happiness. But those lessons could not stop me from dreaming— and I did not think that it was such a bad thing. Though I always hoped for more, I still did everything that was expected of me. At least, until my father died.” She falls silent for a moment, emerald gaze dropping to the earth at their hooves. “I— I can’t begin to describe the pain of that loss. It ran deeper than even grief could express, and my mother said that’s why I became so willful, so...defiant. But the truth was, I’d seen him give everything— including his life— for a dream that wasn’t even his. And I didn’t want that to be me, Cain. So when my grandsire announced my betrothal to one of his other son’s sons, I— I refused to play any part in it. I didn’t want to end up like my mother, chained to a man I hated for the sake of some self-imposed obligation.”

She lifts her eyes to find the Vanner stallion’s, her soft voice pleading for understanding. For absolution. “I only wanted to follow my heart, Cain. I still want that. But I— I’m not even sure—” An errant gust of wind tugs the auburn curtain of her mane across her face, and Chelle takes no effort to sweep the veil of it aside. “That’s why I couldn’t choose. Why I struggle so hard to speak, to act. I’m just… I don’t know how to be myself, anymore. I don’t know who I am.”

Her voice breaks on the last few syllables, a ragged whisper snatched away by the wind’s next breath.