until the lion learns how to write

Autumn came and went without further event, although she watched this one fade into the past with a twinge of regret that she could not shake. She still felt unmoored in the wake of all that had happened with her father, uncertain of where she should go or what she should do with her life. She knew that she belonged here, with Bacardi, for better or worse, but cowardice had led her to avoid him as he struggled with his own losses.

She barely knew how to manage her own grief, and she was scared that in trying to comfort him, she would only make his worse.

Still, Lakota could not deny that a part of her wished she had had the courage to simply approach him herself last season. She had never really imagined herself a mother, could not even fathom what a normal family might look like, but there a longing in her chest she couldn't escape. A desire for something more than just existing on the periphery of someone's life. A desire to matter, and to belong.

The pale mare sighed, her gaze skimming across the variety of tree trunks standing between her and the clearing she was headed to without real purpose. She was accustomed to being alone, and without quite meaning to, had gravitated toward the sort of schedule that kept her safest when she was travelling. Which meant that she avoided the most popular times for grazing, appearing, like now, in the latent darkness when the moon was full and high above, casting rays of anemic light down on the snowy ground. Twitching her ears, she moved to the center of the clearing and began pawing at the snow, searching for the sustenance to sustain her through another lonely winter.

adult mare // Mutt // gray // 15 hh