Agnieszka
They were on the cusp of summer, the days grew warmer and longer. The grass above the beach was long and already fronded. Children used their teeth to strip the early seed pods.
Today the beach was only lightly occupied, and it was easier for the dappled tobiano mare to descend among her fellow Nerinians. She wound her way down from her little hiding place above the rocky shore and then trotted down to the water’s edge. Wherever she’d come from before, these shores were now home. The wet sand and seaspray never grew stale.
High rambunctious waves threatened her, called her. Her scars were no longer so stiff and pink. Was it the warm sun on her strong back? The thrilling crash of waves? Agnieszka remembered she was strong and fast, maybe not as beautiful as she might be unscarred and whole but that suddenly didn’t matter. Her limbs were full of the need to move, and the hard wet sand needed the pounding of hooves over it’s dark bubbling shine.
Agnieszka leaped along the shore, racing along the slithering edge of the foaming seawater. Tail tossed high, neck extended, locomotive. Each snorting breath keeping time with the thud of her dark hooves. She hadn’t raced this way since her half-remembered flight, bloodied and almost destroyed. She reclaimed her right to run simply for the pleasure of it...it was a healing thing, even if she was unaware of it.
She slowed and splashed through the water, letting the waves chase her back up the beach when they came in, not interested in letting them take her. It is while she is doing this that she draws near enough to the stallion that it would be rude not to say hello, though now that she has run does not have the usual desire to keep out of company. ”Hi. I hope I haven’t disturbed you.” She says by way of a breathless greeting, staying where she is, so that the waves roll over her hooves and gently bury them in sand, only to pull it away again as they withdraw. ”I’m Agnieszka. Eszka.” Tacking on the shortened version, just to make remembering her slightly less of a bother.
an unequaled gift for disaster
@[Wane]