Meadow

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She does not know when sleep stole her consciousness, nor how long it has been that she lay there in the soft, sun-baked sands. It is only the sound of her name that draws her from the abyss of dreams and nightmares that mingled themselves into one. Brows furrow as the mare of pale dawn hues stirs, a single ear twitching as dark lashes flutter, blinking away the haze of sleep. ’Where… how??’ The voice draws nearer, rising above the lull of the ocean and seabirds' cries. Recognition flashes somewhere deep inside her as the rose-dappled woman turns to face the woman clad in shadows.

’Ashteroth.

Like a beacon from the gods, the familiar scent envelops her as the younger mare approaches. Even with the sunlight blinding her gaze, Khar can hear the worry in her sister’s voice as no doubt her gaze roams the dappled mare’s salt-encrusted flesh. But aside from a few scrapes and long-healed scars, Khar knew she would find nothing wrong with her. ’There is nothing wrong.’ the firm tone of her dam’s stern voice resonates within her own mind. There is no oozing, puss-filled wounds. There are no maggots slowly eating away at rotting flesh, there is not even broken bones that could perhaps have excused her sudden disappearance and long waylaid return. Broken hearts were not considered hurting, right?

The touch of Ashteroth’s charcoal muzzle causes Khar’pern’s skin to flinch. Shame flashes momentarily across her silver vision as the huntress gives her small head a shake, trying to hide the weakness from the eyes of her once-pupil. ”I am fine, Ashteroth.” she breathes, her tone gentle, almost chiding as she summons what strength the sleep had returned to her bones. Stiffly, the mare of dawn hues rises and turns to the smoke-colored mare. A feeble smile ghosts across her ashen labrums, ”The swim… it took more from me this time is all.” she murmurs, blinking back the biting sunlight to let her own keen eyes scan the serene beachscape beyond them. ”I….I just needed a rest before…” this time, her voice trails off as she turns her gaze to the looming Peaks. As before, the war of dread and relief rise within her breast.

She glances again at Ashteroth, sadness weighing heavily on her heart. ”I…I am sorry if I caused you to worry….If I caused anyone to worry.” It had not been her intention, but it was clearly the result if Ashteroth’s worried eyes was a sentiment shared with the other loyal sisters.

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