Could word’s break the one whose heart stood just feet away; word’s that leave her heart’s own mouth to seek retribution for how she was wronged. Eness takes it all in, as she always does when it comes to facing her beloved. Her tears mean nothing, yet she cannot stop the beads of salt from escaping her eyes as they cry for not only herself but for Sakhmet as well; like a well of never ending water. Her red son presses his nose into the flesh of his mother’s slender sloped shoulder, the very leg that step’s in the direction of the mother and son pair his eyes are moving over curiously.

Wanting. The word tears her very core apart, knowing but not believing that Sakhmet no longer wanted her, or anything these lands had yearned to offer her. Atair too, felt the loss of the fiery woman but had kept back at the pleading of Eness herself; in the end they both had lost her. She still wants her though, no matter how many times Sakhmet shoots her down and narrows those brilliant colored eyes of hers on her in displeasure and hurt. In her mind they are young again, the young girl’s sparing in the privacy of their haven they had sought to escape the gruffness of Eness’s sire and his cruelty; and for a while they were at peace. Childlike laughter in her ears, Eness’s more so than Sakhmet who hadn’t been much for playing but did anything for the little black filly who carried her heart on her sleeve and loved everyone, even those with faults that could not be helped.

She knows Sakhmet’s pain, the grief she has felt even when the other mare declares she does not. Another step, choking on word’s that fight their way up her throat, her frozen figure letting the very shape of her beloved move from her sight and part with word’s she shakes her head at, refusing to let the mare go but her tongue feels heavy in a mouth full of pointless feelings that would be shot down. Her red son bumps his head against his mother once more, her eyes slipping down to him for the briefest of moments but it’s all she needs to gather back her strength and move after Sakhmet.

“No,” her voice is loud, uncaring if anyone else happens upon the mares and their conversation. “I won’t let you walk away, not this time. 'ant qalbi,” she pleads this to the slender back of Sakhmet, reaching out with carefully placed steps in the direction of what she yearns for the most in this moment, what she was stupid to lose chasing the other half of her soul after long last; what was ones soul without their heart?

“You are more than you think you are blessed one,” and if she let’s her, if Sakh had yet to move out of her way, Eness would try to touch her on the shivering fragility that is her hip to further get her attention if it wasn’t already on her already with her word’s. “Please Sakhmet, peace your war and calm your fire, all I want is your love again. My son’s have been told of your fire in the face of the one who brought me life, who sought to smight out the mighty filly whose been by my side through everything and have been eager to meet you,” she praises the woman whose had nothing but Eness up till now; up till the little shadow even that follows his mother so closely you'll think they were one being.

“Let us love you Sakhmet,” a soft plea, eyes shining and head reaching but it would take Sakhmet to close the gap if she wants what Eness offers. Ignoring the foals that flock at their sides, in another view it’s two young girls facing the other down as they often did in the early days, when Eness was teaching her heart to love, and to accept it while war happened around them.


'ant qalbi - you are my heart