12-21-2017, 12:08 AM
sinew.
Sinew has been in the dark - -
Dreaming.
Tarnished had left his mark on her neck, a gobbet of flesh he’d swallowed down. Then he’d taken the tip of her left ear and devoured it.
Sinew had let him.
Pollock came after. Like a cancer in her brain. He sank his fearsome claws into her and never withdrew them. His scars stayed on the inside in the flayed meat of her heart.
Sinew couldn’t forget him even if she tried. His absence leached from her and cast her in the dark where she dreamed - where the big black beast found her. Not the thing she knew would kill her one day but he killed her in his own way. With lust and the slap of flesh against flesh. She knew her womb had been freshly slaughtered and sowed, come what may.
Come what may would become a foal.
Never had a stallion’s seed not taken inside her belly.
Mothering had become an art to her.
First, Tarnished’s girl in a bright sac of fluid and smoke. Embers from her infant feathers had burned themselves out against Sinew’s sweat-slick thighs. Then came Pollock’s creepy goat-twins. Boys, that she had adored as much as she adored their pernicious father. He’d given her one more after that, a girl fanged and unable to stop from going invisible in the beginning. Now, there will come another as the seed quickens inside her to become embryo than fetus than foal. She’ll dream of its sex beneath the dark of the stars, when even the constellations lay themselves to rest.
Until then, the chestnut overo is in a strange funk.
No Tarnished. No Pollock. No foal at her flank. What to do? Especially now that Pangea is lost to her. So back to the Forest she goes. To be amidst the great old trunks of trees that have seen too much and not enough. Sinew has seen things, thinks of them as she goes. Things in another place and another time that proved the existence of parallels to this one. Black mares in lakes, bathing in purple twilight. Gold eyes and smoking nostrils that came from no dragon but a horse beside her.
Odd, but she has not thought of that moment much since she was sucked into the warp of time and later spat out as a mare that blossomed like a bloodstain on the dirt. Perhaps she thinks of it only because time has lost all sensation to her. Seasons come and go, as endless as she is. That alone should make her feel old but Sinew is as spry and plump as ever. Small in her size but as staunch as any of the trees around her. She finds one such tree that must be older than she is and throws a hip up against it in a lazy bid at rest.
Sinew is unafraid of the things that go bump in the night in the darkening wood.
Let them come, let them rouse her from the deluge of memories that root her to the spot.the only promises that ever make sense
@[Thana] <333