- 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 November 9, 2023 at 02:58:36 AM by Daire
everything is my fault. . . I'll take the blame
“I should let you watch over Vervain.”
The tones of the creamy male prefaced the goodbye he hadn't uttered, and, though he would not have meant it to, it hurt. A guarded part of the brindled mare had found a sort of comfort in Zevulun over the time she'd spent in the Prairie. When she allowed herself to forget her sins, the warmth of his presence soothed the frayed edges of her remaining spirit. He had come to know a part of her that she was ashamed of and had not found her wanting. Instead he had revealed his own faults and similarities to her. They were more alike than she ever would have guessed that cold day they first met. Somehow. . . she felt that made it worse. It was wrong: the closeness they had shared in the quiet moments like this. He knew that as well as she did.
So, despite the wants of the small, unloved creature she called a heart, Daire let him go. She did not reach for Zevulun when he turned to leave. Her lips did not shape the words that would call him back and ask him to stay. The black mare simply allowed her mask of a face movement enough to try echoing his parting smile. It barely tugged at the corners of her dark lips, nevermind disingenuously reaching her eyes.
A soberingly disconnected part of her brain wondered what, if anything -- probably nothing -- would have changed if Zevulun had interpreted her earlier words about not wanting to leave the Prairie a little differently: If not for my own peace, then for that of my children." If not for my own peace . . . Hadn't she desired that here? Hadn't she thought it remotely possible when they had first met? How badly Daire had wanted to believe that the fabled life of her imaginings could happen. How desperately she had wanted to forget every wrong she'd ever done, forget the way the universe had made her reunite with her oldest children only to wrench them away from her again, forget the way things always fall apart.
Daire remembered now, as her eyes followed his retreating form, what their charged quiet had reminded her of. The gathering silence that had settled between her mother and father before her family scattered. The charge of words unsaid and the feelings behind them. Had it been like this for them? Saying nothing because it would be too hard otherwise? Did they think they were doing the right thing, too? Her lashes fluttered, trying to stave away the tears that threatened her. Daire hurried to turn away then, unwilling to let this vulnerable part of herself be seen through the chink in her armor. It was several minutes before Daire composed herself enough to return to her sleeping babe.