Autumn had arrived swiftly in Beqanna with cool breezes and changing leaves, heralding colder days to come. Or so I'd heard from the chatter of the older mares. In the jungle I couldn't tell; the days were just as sticky and hot as they had always been. I preferred the steady unchanging of my home. The only signs I had of the passing seasons were the different scents in the air. A restlessness, almost, that I wasn't used to from the Sisters. It made me wary for reasons I didn't understand.
I missed Mother. She was very busy, meeting visitors and traveling to other lands. I had occupied myself well with exploration and meeting new friends, but now I longed for her presence. I waited impatiently for her to come back home, watching a trail of ants carry a still struggling spider into their nest. Normally such a thing would have fascinated me, but I was too anxious to be distracted for long. Surely my mother would come home?
Ever since the day when I had traded lives, (a day growing dimmer in my memory all the time), I had an underlying fear that the ones I loved would drift away. I worked hard to banish my fear, but it wasn't always easy. I felt very young and alone.
Finally, after the ants had subdued the spider and pulled him fully into their home, a familiar gray mare with horns appeared in the jungle. I nickered joyfully and trotted forward to meet her, eager for her attention before somebody else important had a question for her. Didn't all of those important horses know that she was mine, too?
I sigh softly, relieved, and bury my head in mother's side.
"I missed you, mama." I nip at her side reproachfully. She could have been gone three weeks or five minutes and I would still have given her a scolding look. "When you go away again, won't you take me with you? I'm big enough to go places, aren't I?"
I rear playfully, nearly bumping into mother, and then return to her shoulder like a limpet, looking up at her mischievously.
"I've been very good, you know. You can ask anyone. Erm, I think anyone. Most anyone, anyways."
I suppose it depends on who saw me sneaking up on one of the Sisters and yanking her tail, or if anyone was watching when I startled a sleeping group of parrots who let out a racket loud enough to wake the dead.
But nobody is good all time, I think. I bet not even mama is!
the jungle princess