The Summer Months Were Our Best [Iset]

[Iset]

Iset

goddamn right
you should be scared of me

She can’t sleep; since Sakir had been returned to them the memories of their time spent in the Dunes were coming back full force, and along with them, the nightmares. She picked her way restlessly and clumsily over the uneven ground of the mountains she had recently decided were her favorite place in Hyaline. 

Every few steps, the rocky crevices snag her small hooves and pitch her slight body forward, and long legs smart as she roughly pulls them free. Grumbling under her breath about why Amet couldn’t have found them a home that was more easily maneuverable, she suddenly stops as a scent is caught on the breeze and carried leisurely to her. Another mare…mixed with something else, familiar but unnamable at the moment. 

Ever the explorer, Iset curiously follows the trail, letting her nose guide her. Before long, she stops in front of a painted buckskin mare facing away from her and towards the sea. From the curious combination of the gangly youth still apparent in her limbs and the refined elegance of her sloping neck and back, Iset is able to discern that the two are about the same age; caught between filly and mare. 

The lack of sleep she had been able to capture over the past few weeks was beginning to catch up to her, and was made apparent in the sluggish way her young bones moved as she closed the distance between her and the stranger. “Who are you?” she questions tiredly, with no forewarning to her prying inquisition. Almost as soon as she says this, the smell of the mare becomes stronger, and Iset is able to pinpoint the curiously familiar scent that blanketed her. 

Amet. 

“You’ve been here for a while, you know my brother,” the next time she speaks it is a statement and not a question, for she is sure that the scent mingling with that of the mare in front of her belongs to her eldest sibling.