- the Prairie stands as a symbol of peace and prosperity among the islands
- anyone is welcome to live here so long as they do not bring harm to the Prairie or any of it's residents
- adventure and exploration is not only allowed, but encouraged! residents are asked to use their better judgement and not travel to places that could bring them harm
- the head of the prairie has final say in all prairie matters. the secondary and third positions are not able to be challenged for and are selected by the head
- the guardians take on a more active role in the prairie; they must protect the inhabitants of the prairie and go on patrols of the prairie borderlines and shore. they can welcome strangers to the prairie and invite anyone to live here, though they must inform one of the leaders of any newcomers or visitors
find my nest of salt Posted on August 27, 2023 at 04:34:27 AM by Daire
everything is my fault. . . I'll take the blame
The first chill of winter fingered its way through the coarse strands of Daire's dark, knotted mane and left icy trails delving along the various curvatures of her form. Ignoring the moments in the cold breeze, Daire exhaled solidly. The action fluttered her dark nostrils with the effort. It was not done in a manner that would wake sleeping Vervain though. The yearling girl, the spitting image of her mother save for a star on her brow, lay napping soundly among the stalks of dying grass. The mare sought not to wake her and let her rest in the peace they had found here.
All was quiet in this remote corner of the Prairie. It was a hardly traversed area, and that was largely why Daire had chosen it. Here, she and her children had played in last winter's early snowdrifts, kicking up the remaining late leaves of autumn with their heels. While she looked fondly on the memory, Daire couldn't help but feel guilt and shame over the manner in which it had come to pass. Her dark ears flatten against her poll as the mare's head bows slightly. In finding a safe haven for herself and her youngest babes, Daire had unknowingly and unintentionally trampled back into the life of her eldest daughter, Riesling. Scarcely had they entered into the Prairie than Riesling appeared, revealing Daire's many sins. Thus, her life came full circle at the reunion with one she had abandoned.
There was no way Riesling could ever forgive her, and the black mare did not delude herself in thinking otherwise. She'd abandoned Riesling and her younger sister Sémillon with their father and his herd for long stretches at a time while she galavanted outside the territory. His lead mare -- her perceived rival -- took the girls upon herself in Daire's absence, raising them as her own. Eventually though, after far too long of her own needling and barbed words, Rowan finally traded her away, making her "someone else's problem."
Had she done the right thing in leaving Riesling with her father and his mate? Would it have truly been better for Daire to wrest the girl from what she knew, stealing what happiness had been gained on the girl's behalf? All this time, the brindle had assumed she had made the right choice. Too often she inflicted the wandering, rootless lifestyle of her parents and her foalhood on her children. In a way, Daire had wanted to give her daughters something more than what she could give. Was it possible that she had screwed up to a greater degree than she knew?
In truth, the trade had helped to sober her. To realize the one stallion who had continued to harbor her had finally had enough of her and that he was giving her away and keeping her children was certainly shock. Then there were the years that followed... She'd never expected to see Riesling again, though she did later reunite and steal away with her younger daughter. Not to say that Daire hadn't wanted to reunite with Riesling, just that she wasn't sure i she should. In all the wrong ways, the brindle had been trying to give Riesling something better than she could provide. She wondered balefully at the past and all of her mistakes.
Then came the soft crooning of Zevulun and the unwelcome wistfulness it elicited from her. Her dark eyes turned skyward, perhaps wordlessly praying for some abstract thing. Then, they glanced over to the still-sleeping form of Vervain. The brindled yearling was not roused from her nap by any sound made by the searching stallion. Intently, she listened for the cream stallion with ears pricked in his direction. Daire heard him call once more before she crept away from the napping filly. Finding him was easy enough. The brindled mare searched his face on approach and knew the tidings were not glad. He tried to smile, but she could tell it was barely plastered on. Something akin to anxiety burned in the belly of the mare before cooling into a heavy stone of guilt that sank in her gut as he spoke.
Riesling was not returning. And she could hear every hurt in the breaking of his voice. A part of her wanted to go forth and comfort him, a part of her that had no place and no right to do so. So she stood where she was, unmoving and incapable of moving closer to him. Zevulun continued truthfully and said that her continued presence and his allowance of it had contributed to her daughter's decision to forsake him and the Prairie. For that, she felt much guilt. “Is it possible to both regret and not regret a decision? Maybe it’s better I know how she’s always felt about me now, even if it came about the way it did.”
The soft and mournful tones of someone rife with regret left her mouth then. "No hard decision can be made without regret being cast one way or the other, Zevulun. Yours is a bittersweet place which I know well." Her brown eyes cast themselves toward the ground lest they reveal the swell of guilt and shame within her. Daire knew very little of the life Riesling had had with Zevulun before her arrival. What she did know was that her presence had been the final straw. "I am so dreadfully sorry for my part in all of this, Zevulun," she laments. "I truly never meant for this to happen."