| Senu Ripple On Still Waters |
| She took to roaming the sands of Salem again, keeping her son close, skirting the Desert were the traces of a familiar feminine scent lingered on the border, alway feeling drawn to return to a pool of water in a clear in a small gully towards the back of the canyons of the Badlands, and the one that watched over that land.
There was an urgency, some strange shifting of the weather that always got the sooty desert mare nervous, that hastened her return to the Badlands. The scents that were familiar to her were scattered and fading, but a few remained, and one in particular she had followed. With caution, she slowly made her way through the narrow canyons, suppressing the memory of the sound of rushing waters. “I’m going deeper into the canyons, Sway,” she called softly over her shoulder to her son, not in a tone that told him to follow, it was softer, more just wanting him to know where to find her. There seemed nothing that put her ill at ease in the wind. Not until she ventured deeper into the canyons, and there, upon one of the narrow twisting trails, she stopped dead in her tracks, hit in the face by the musky scent of a predator. Panicky, but unable to turn around for the way the path cut away steeply to the right down to the canyon floor, and unable to retreat backwards, for the way she was shaking, it would make the impossible-to-navigate blind twists and turns treacherous, and if she were to slip? There’d be no rushing flood waters to swallow her up and soften her fall this time. And no Raegar to pull her back from going over. The small mare’s only choice was to press forward, and hope that the wildcat creature she’d scented wasn’t lying in wait for her around the next outcrop of stone. There was not another soul in sight, and as the buckskin mare ventured onward and upward with extreme caution, she found herself in sight of the clifftops. A sudden commotion somewhere below had her heart seizing in terror. The snarling savagery and squeals of pain echoing off the canyon walls. There was no mistaking it, the predator had cornered its prey. The sooty mare forced herself to press against the rocky wall, so that she didn’t spook and lose her footing, and a second later, a dreadful possibility had her feeling almost faint. Sway. As if driven by a fierce wind at her heels, the desert mare scrambled the rest of the way up to the clifftops, and cast a frantic look around. Pacing restlessly toward the edge further along, she tried to peer down in the various chasms that branched off the main canyon, but she saw nothing, and the sounds of the struggle for life were impossible to pinpoint. Breathing quick and shallow, white rimming the edge of her eyes, she threw a glance behind. How long it had been since she’d seen her son? Had he followed her into the canyons? An overwhelming sense of fear and guilt made itself known in the form of the raw, ragged cry that tore from her lips and rang through the stone of the canyon. The sound must have been so loud in her ears, or else the pounding of her heart deafened her to all else, but there was only silence after, not even a whisper of wind. The lone mare had turned and raced along those cliftops, far from the edge, familiar with the lay of the land up here, as opposed to the way she got turned around in the labyrinthine passages of the canyon no matter how many times she walked them. Though much time had passed, she was still haunted by what had happened seasons ago, and the memory - of the fear, the betrayal, the grief, settled heavily upon her each time, so that all she could do was place one hoof in front of the other and keep going until she found her way. Upon finding her son alive and unharmed, the mare had wept with relief, and kept close to him after that, becoming uncharacteristically anxious whenever he was out of sight. At least there’d been no further signs of the cougar. But neither had there been any others that she recognized - at least, not venturing through the area of the Badlands where she lingered, waiting. For what, she was unsure. Traces of Raegar’s scent came and went, and when newcomers appeared on the horizon, the mare with her subtle stripes of gold gathered her yearling son to her and decided it was time to move on. Perhaps Raegar had taken what remained of his herd and had journeyed east again. If that were the case, the mare would find and follow whatever trail he’d left, even if it led her into the very heart of the Hills. But there, while she hesitated on the cusp of the Desert, uncertain how she’d feel about potentially coming across traces of a certain mare’s scent that she’d thought she’d imagined, she pointed her muzzle into the wind from the west, carrying with it the faint, mingled scent of stone, and blood, and Raegar. Turning back to the Badlands, Ripple didn’t hesitate, but at a sound or movement behind her, she turned back to look to her boy. “You can stay here in the open if you promise to keep alert, and run to find me if there’s any hint of danger. Or you can come with me, but if you do, you must do exactly what I tell you.” Her voice was as soft as it always was, with its melodic foreign accent that time had worn smooth but not quite erased entirely, but never before had she been so direct with Sway. And neither had she seemed so impatient before, continuing on her way with hardly a pause, driven by a gnawing dread. When she caught sight of him, sprawled in the dust, and so still, a dry sob wracked her body. If only she’d come looking for him sooner. Grief held her in place - memories of coming across Marceline’s body in the canyons after the flood waters had receded breaking her heart. Later, she’d learned that somehow, the spotted red queen had survived, but Senu had still lost her, to the sea, and the lands beyond, where Senu could not go. To lose Raegar, too… Swallowing down a ragged sound of sorrow that ended up sitting like a stone in her chest, Ripple stirred into movement. If Sway had followed, she’d turn to him and direct him to stay right where he was. And then she was hastening over the rocky ground, slowing as she approached, and lowering her head, throat tightening and eyes stinging as she took in the extent of his injuries. If she had come sooner, if she hadn't fled, if she hadn't returned to her wanderings at all… He was weeping, and it made her weep too. “Raegar, I - I…” Ripple’s voice broke, and she dropped to her knees close beside him, her muzzle moving erratically as she kept it hovering over his skin, wanting to touch him more than anything, to provide physical comfort, but distressed at the fact she didn’t know how to that without causing him more pain in his current state. “It’s me, it’s - it’s your Ripple. I -” Again, the buckskin mare choked on her emotions, the air hitching in her throat and chest as she inhaled. Eventually, she mustered the courage and the clarity of mind to brush her lips along the edge of one ear. “I’m here and I’m not going to leave you again, never, I promise you.” A trembling breath. “So please, please stay. Stay with me, because I - I need you. Fight, and I’ll fight for you.” And a tender, featherlight kiss to the slope of his cheek. “I love -” This time, Ripple cut herself off, chest heaving with another sob, and another. The first and last time she had spoken such words, made such a confession, and revealed the truth she kept hidden in her heart, it had been over what she’d thought was Marceline’s dead body. And sensitive to the whims of fate, and believing herself to be an ill omen which is why she returned always to her wandering, Ripple couldn’t bring herself to finish her tearful, heartfelt confession, out of fear that in doing so, Raegar would be ripped away from her forever. |