Falls

Marjolaine

the monument of a memory

"Théo,” came the breathy call as the slight mare stumbled ashore, her legs trembling with exhaustion, but the adrenalin fueling her had Marjolaine trailing her muzzle through the air, turning to look upon the form of her brother just ahead of her. "I'm still with you,” she whispered, near all of what feeble strength she had spent on the long, arduous journey they’d made across the sea.

At the blue roan stallion’s suggestion, she simply nodded mutely, the muscles in her shoulders quivering. Marjolaine had heard the question he’d asked, but she was torn, legs almost giving way beneath her as she shifted to turn back toward the sea - but not moving away from Matthéo - chest heaving with suppressed emotions.

"But Florent,” her voice quivered as she spoke her youngest son's name, and a sob rattled in her frail chest. He had been so close behind her in the restless waves of the sea, but his voice had grown more distant as the winds changed, and from where she floundered in the ocean, she lost sight of him, and eventually there was no returned cry. Even now, her voice was hoarse and strained from calling his name.

"And...” Niklas. Her firstborn, who had refused to listen to reason, and had stayed behind, fighting to survive as everything his father had built came tumbling down. In her heart, it grieved Marjolaine to know that she would never see him again.

When Matthéo drew up alongside her, offering himself as a support for her, and a source of strength, Marjolaine did not hesitate to sag against him, trembling through a sob before taking a few minutes to catch her breath. "I'll be fine,” she murmured at length, finally answering the question that had been asked.

Lifting her weary head, she focused on the towering tree that her brother had set his sights on, and slowly picked her way across the sand, and then the dry grasses, every step taking effort. The pause to slake her gnawing thirst at a stream they had to cross served to revive some of her vitality, but it was evident by the tiem they found themselves beneath the oak, that she was exhausted.

Now that Matthéo had found them somewhere to rest, Marjolaine did just that, folding her legs and sank to the ground, with far less grace than normal, given her physical state. "We'll have to find somewhere more sheltered before winter,” she said, needing to dispel the silence, and focus on the future rather than everything that had been lost to them. There was, too, the looming threat of a drop in temperature. If they had come much later, then Marjolaine, with her delicate constitution, would not have made it.

"Tell me of the islands again, cher frère, s'il te plaît?” And after all Matthéo had done to ensure she survived, she refused to give up now, nor would she stand on pride. If there came an opportunity for her to find a place in a herd, she would accept it with as much grace as she had left. All that mattered at present was getting through the winter. "You spoke of a desert, and a jungle. Perhaps in one of those two places, I might weather the bitter cold well enough...” Once spring came, and her spirit had been granted a little time to heal, then the once-Queen of a mighty Kingdom would consider her future here, beyond just surviving.

For now though, she laid her head down and quickly fell into a deep sleep. How long she slumbered, Marjolaine could not say, but she was drawn from her rest by the sound of an unfamiliar voice, and upon opening her eyes, and finding herself in unfamiliar surroundings, she jolted awake. Wide eyes settling on the comforting sight of her brother, Marjolaine instantly relaxed, knowing that she was safe.

With a momentary flush of heat on her skin, at having acted so in front of a stranger, never mind how understandable such a reaction was given all she’d been through, Marjolaine drew in a steadying breath and with effort rose to her feet to properly greet the newcomer. Between trying to shake off the drowsiness that still clung to her, and get a read on Matthéo to glean what he thought of the stranger, whether friend, or yet undecided, the dark red spotted mare dipped her head politely and offered a soft greeting, though did not yet introduce herself.