Desert

Cerosi had spent her entire life unsure of who she was. She had never even spent much time thinking about it, for it had never seemed to matter. Now, as she was only just beginning to adjust to her freedom, she was realizing that she actually could think about it. It had taken her years, but the shell shock of her escape was finally wearing off.

There was still anxiety, even about things that were not at all associated with her time on the mainland. But being a mother had largely distracted her from even the worst if these fears. Now that Kára was nearly a yearling, and Cerosi had more time to herself, she found that her anxiety mostly stayed away. Very few of her old fears came back once she had time to experience them again, and in time her confidence grew because of this. She still felt more distant from Kára than she thought mothers were supposed to feel, but part of Cerosi knew this was her own fault. She would always have walls, no matter how hard she tried to let others in. She supposed someday this might change as well, but for the time being, she was content with the changes she already had. She was far happier than she ever thought she could be, and even if it wasn’t perfect, it was something. She was thankful to Kára for helping her to heal, and for teaching her to let a little bit of light into her life.

Because of the distance she felt from her daughter, Cerosi made extreme efforts to show Kára that she was loved. Cerosi did love her, in her own way; even if that part of the silver grulla’s mind was still far too closely guarded to truly access. Even now as her stormy daughter was growing independent, Cerosi still followed her around at a distance. Sometimes she tried to be sneaky about her surveillance, but most times she just wandered around behind Kára, not bothering to hide.

Today she had let the grey filly wander to the edges of her sight, and lingered, grazing, as she played. She mostly did not pay attention to her daughter unless something happened to draw her gaze. Cerosi was dozing lazily under the warm morning sun when Kára’s squeal roused her. Immediately Cerosi was awake, her hooves stirring dust from the thirsty ground as she propelled herself toward her daughter. She could see that she was running from a young stallion, fire-colored and painted. Cerosi slowed as she reached them, meeting her yearling daughter a short distance away and checking her for injuries before turning her furious gaze on the stallion.

Before she could say anything, the familiar shape of Akello joined them and spoke calmly with the other. With a start, Cerosi realized she had actually seen the chestnut male around the Desert, though she had never spoken to him. She didn’t like the sound Kára had made to him, but she trusted Akello, and it was somewhat comforting to see the other painted stallion approach so calmly. Cerosi briefly wondered if they had been playing, or if Kára had been causing mischief. Her ears turned uncertainty, and she swung her dark head back to her gray daughter.

“What happened?” she asked, still uneasy, but quite sure that if Akello had seen the other stallion do something distasteful, he would not be addressing him in friendliness.

Cerosi

mare // 4 // EE aa Dd nRb ZZ // 15hh