Meadow

Time slipped away and what was once a happy mare stood at the edge of the ridge, her eyes glassy as she watched the ocean roll in front of her. She had come to the Ridge for refuge, but she never expected to be an outcast. Her daughter was old enough now to be by herself most of the time and the goal growing in her womb should of gave her comfort for at least Tyr didn't entirely hate her. Yet, the chestnut thoroughbred named Asphara felt more alone than ever before during this winter day.


Winters here in the Ridge were nice, she had learned, but they were lonely. Vines grasped her when she went far enough into the trees and the rocks broke her hooves when they were good and ready. Her frame grew muscle and looked fit as ever, but her face began to grow frown lines and almost some hairs of a lighter hue. She wasn't old at all, but loneliness did give a creature room to grow old inside of themselves and act like it.


Shaking her head, Asphara looked behind her before she lifted her small hooves and descended down the ridges steep cliffs. She needed to get to the beach and then she needed to run, like her breed was built for. Her long tail was knotted and snagged some on the foliage around her, but she weaved her way through it all as best as possible before the sound of a soft thump alerted her wandering mind to the fact she was standing on the beach. She remembered the exact day she made it here and saw Tyr from this exact spot and that in itself had her wishing she wasn't so disposable.


Turning to a place she knew she could go, Asphara pushed herself into a run before her body hit into the ocean water and she swam. It was a long and hard journey with her being heavier in weight carrying a second foal, but this one was so much easier on her. She knew what would come in the spring and with that knowledge she continued forth. She would roam and birth this child in the ridge and when they were old enough… Asphara knew she would leave them with their father and disappear. She wasn't a good mother, Rosaliana already proved that much.


Pulling herself onto the crossing and then heading towards the meadow, Asphara let out a sad breath before her hooves stopped on the snow covered ground. Her fur wasn't thick enough for this chill, but she cared not as she rummaged around in the snow and finally bedded down away from anyone and most likely everyone. Tucking her head against her legs, Asphara fell asleep in the meadow until the rising sun marking a new day.

ASPHARA

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mare | 15.3hhs | chestnut | of the ridge

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