She does not like being alone and idle. It is not something she is used to and it leaves her with too much time to think about things. Like her past, with all of its tragedy. Or her present, with all of its confusion. Or her future, with all of its uncertainty. She is too old to be having new feelings and yet here she was, muddled in the middle of something she didn’t understand.
Perhaps if she had been a normal mare, the sight of a foal would awaken maternal feelings; something akin to happiness or joy. But all of her experiences surrounding “motherhood” were quite unpleasant. Her first year or so of life had been happy, she could not deny that - but they were overshadowed. And her own children, all long gone, had never known a mother’s love. Perhaps she was simply incapable of giving it.
But the boy that approaches her today is so obviously loved; he does not show fear and there is no pain or sorrow in his bright eyes. She wonders what life would be like to be so carefree. Her golden eyes watch his movements closely, as if it was all new to her (maybe it was to a degree). His words are gentle and curious and she finds her uneasiness softening. She smiles a little, the expression almost looking out of place on her feathered head. “No, I’m not lost. And I’m not looking for anyone in particular. I just came to make some friends.” She dips her head now, in greeting. “I’m Seraphina. I live south of here. Who are you?”
Seraphina