Falls

Not since Lir had brought her back to the Prairie had Lavender left the territory, not even to follow her adventurous yearlings as they sought to explore a little ways beyond the boundary of their home. They had weaned early, a fact for which Lavender was grateful, considering it had taken a toll on her physically, carrying twins, birthing them, feeding them. Though in the time since, she’d often found herself wondering if it had weakened her bond with them. If she had been stronger, capable of giving more, would it have made them more inclined to be with her? Perhaps it was her fault, her mind turning to her wayward son with every other thought. Had she not been present enough for them?

Or perhaps they were just inherently wildly independent of everyone except each other. There was a brightness in both of them, an intellect and thirst for knowledge and understanding that Lavender couldn’t comprehend. A lack of fear, especially in her daughter, who had named herself Witchhazel. She had named her brother too, Wolfsbane. Both names taken from what they had learned from a mysterious nomad who had settled for a time in the wilds of Luthien. That her children had a stronger bond with a stranger had hurt at first, but in the end, Lavender had come to terms with it, just grateful for the fact they were healthy, that they were careful in their explorations, and that they were still with her.

In her heart, though, the small palomino mare knew that one day she’d wake and they would be gone, vanished into the night just like Kythri. She didn’t like to think of that future time, however, and was determined to make the most of what opportunities she did have. That was what had brought her here, to the Falls.

Most of her time in the Prairie was spent near the herd, but Lavender was a quiet, gentle soul, struggling with a melancholy that she didn’t quite understand, nor even begin to know how to explain. She’d often wander out to the edges of the territory when it was safe, usually just after Lir had done his patrols. Lavender traced his footprints, and would spend time by herself, just watching and waiting. Hoping for her lost boy to come home. The twins had found her just after dawn, lingering near the border of the Prairie and the Forest, within the sight of the sea, but not near enough to hear the whisper of the waves.

They had asked if she would swim with them to the Crossing, so that they could get to know the land there. Knowing that if she said no, they would remain for now, Lavender sensed that they would not ask again, and go by themselves the next day that the ocean was calm. So, warmed by the opportunity to do this for them, glad for the fact they had sought her out, and wanted her to go with them, the golden mare had let Lir know where they’d be going, and led the twins into the water.

The had made landfall on the shores of the Peak, and Lavender had anxiously scouted one of the valleys her son and daughter were eager to explore, before she was satisfied they’d be safe. If any danger came, she told them to head for the mountain, trusting they’d be protected by the mares there. The blue eyed mare had not forgotten her arrival here, and how she’d first crossed paths with one of the Peak mares.

Lost in memories, of her first meeting with Lir, of Ursa, of being claimed by the Lagoon bachelors, Lavender found herself drifting southward, toward the Falls. Perhaps she might use her time here to continue her desperate search for answers, for some sign of her firstborn. Somewhere behind her, the twins had seemingly forgotten she was even there, so invested in becoming acquainted with a new patch of land, needing nothing but each other to be content and to feel whole.