Once again, after the birth of their daughter, Miriella did all she could to give herself a self-imposed isolation away from Vadim. It wasn’t as easy as it was before, given that they were without a home, wandering among the gathering areas on Crossing Isle, but she still managed to tuck herself and their new child away often. She wished she could magically be the perfect mother to this daughter, better than she was to Elaine, but the same struggles plagued her that had before. It was a struggle to have something so dependent on her, so needy, and always right there in her space. Too, because it seemed her maternal instincts were clearly lacking, she worried Vadim would take better note and decide she was unfit to keep around. This worry heightened her anxiety, which increased her stress, and it was unfortunately clueless, sweet Ambre who received the brunt of it all… thus making Miriella even guiltier than before.
Why was she so terrible at this?? Could it really be that because she had such a flippant mother, who was gone by the time she could be, that Miriella lacked any grace in being a mother herself? She wanted to do better… but more often than not, Ambre’s presence annoyed her just as Elaine’s had.
Today the mother and daughter duo were in one of the sequestered, smaller clearings off toward the left of the large meadow where strangers and islanders alike gathered. Ambre’s little body was stretched out among the soft summer grass, and she was deep in sleep, which gave Miriella the time to herself she’d been so desperate for. As she idly grazed, she glanced over now and again, looking at the tiny girl and studying how alike and how different she was from Elaine. She already appeared larger, despite being so young. Too, rather than Elaine’s soft pale and white hue, Ambre was a deep red that Miriella imagined would lighten a little as the days passed and she shed out her fuzzy foal coat. She had bold white markings up her legs and belly and over her face.
She was a lovely little thing… but then again, Miriella had occasionally thought that of Elaine, too. Should she do the same for Ambre that she’d done for Elaine? Should she take her to the Savanna to leave in Leliel’s care? Miriella had never gone back to the Savanna to see how Elaine was fairing and she likely never would; the guilt she would feel to face her grown daughter would be enough to swallow her whole. Miriella knew the pain of having a distant mother and of feeling abandoned of her, to have inflicted that pain onto the one she was supposed to protect instead was…
Well, it was one of many reasons why she knew at her core she was a terrible, terrible individual. One day Vadim would notice it too and he would leave her, regardless of his promises that she would never escape him.
The sound of a horse walking off toward her left snapped her idle thoughts away. Miriella snapped her head up on her long, graceful neck, and peered suspiciously at the shadows between the trees. It wasn’t Vadim, but the figure was easily recognizable. Miriella’s ears flicked back as-
“Miriella?” Her brother, Jasper, stumbled to a stop where he’d been walking by, clearly not expecting to have come across her. His gaze flicked from her to the little body still soundly snoozing on the ground and she shifted her feet, swaying her figure to put herself between Jasper and her daughter. He appeared briefly hurt that she would think that a necessity, and Miriella felt her irritation climb higher.
She’d always been crueler to Jasper than he likely deserved. They’d been born the same season and Jasper’s mother had left him even sooner than Miriella’s had left her. But where Miriella swallowed her feelings down and tried to appear strong, Jasper seemed to feel everything and express it, too. It had always irritated her, and when they were younger, she’d often picked on him until he went sobbing to their father (which wasn’t a hard task considering how easily he cried).
“We thought you left the islands,” he started, and thankfully kept his voice hushed. Miriella glanced back at Ambre, but the girl was still sleeping soundly.
“Go away, Jasper,” she hissed, and let the vitriol she had been feeling for the last few weeks, the past few months (hell… for the entirety of her life) turn her words to the rage she wanted them to hold. Miriella figured if she was mean enough, Jasper would leave her be, and that’s what she wanted. She did not want anyone in her family out looking for her. Nor did she want Vadim to ever put two-and-two together and realize she was from such a large, established family on the islands.
Jasper appeared both shocked and offended by her behavior, which only made her angrier. Miriella stomped her front right hoof and moved a step closer toward him. Her ears pulled flatter against her neck as she lowered her dished face and glowered at him. “Go away.”
“Miriella, we haven’t seen one another in years-” he started, and the whine in his voice made her see red.
Miriella tossed her head and lunged at him, jaws snapping. “GO AWAY!”
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