skin to bone, steel to rust; repost

[Sol]

What am I supposed to do when I want to talk about peace and understanding
But you only understand the language of war?

“Where is here?” Sol scanned the forest around them, then glanced down at the charred birds. As if the answer was going to write itself in their ashes. “My mama said I have a lot of family, but I don’t know where she is now.” The filly continued to stare at the crows, nudging the nearest one tentatively with her small hoof. “You look like her, kinda,” she squinted over at Frejya, one of her ears pressing back and her dark head still cocked to the side. “Except you don’t have the scar by your eye. And she was a lot bigger.”

Sol, though densely boned and slightly feathered at the hoof herself, was still built more delicately than her powerhouse of a dam. “She liked to fight a lot,” the girl mused aloud, taking in a deep breath and inhaling the stinging scent of pine before exhaling slowly. “You might know her, maybe.” She hoped so, at the very least.

She was really starting to miss her.

“Her name is Nocturnal,” she stated, searching the mare’s face for some sign of recognition. The filly didn’t let the revelation linger long in the air, however. “My name is Sol, by the way,” she tried to smile, though something clenched painfully around her heart. A feeling she had never felt before.

Sorrow, maybe?

“What is your name?”

sol

No Crosses Count x Nocturnal