The sound of silence chills her. For so long now had she run that she had grown quite accustomed to the repetitive cadence of her steps. Thud thud. Thud thud. Strangely melodic. Strangely soothingly. And with each thud, she had felt a ripple of pain shoot through her muscles from the impact, from overuse, from overexertion. She had cherished that pain. It had been so strong. But it had been so constant. It was a stable companion in her unstable life.
And the physical pain so easily, so welcomingly, overrode the mental pain. But only while she ran.
Now, with no such companion, she feels his memory creeping back. He is a dark shadow, curling his fingers, latching on to what little sanity she has left.
She closes her eyes and inhales deeply. She begs herself – she begs him! – to leave her be. To let her start anew! He had already chased her off – why must he follow as well?
Luckily, her inner battle was not permitted to wage for long. She hears him (a different him, she notes with both gratitude and disappointment) – or more accurately, his snort – before she sees him. It is fortunate, for as she turns and her gaze settles on him, she pulls back with fright. She scrambles to not lose her footing, though she cannot help but sound a shrill, startled whinny. But with a deep breath, she attempts to calm her beating heart as she realizes he had not yet attacked.
In fact, he seems rather amicable.
He had instead brought her a pleasant greeting, and with embarrassment, she notes that she had not responded in the most polite of manners. But she had never before seen such a creature… those wings! Those colors! And most of all, what frightened her to the core, those eyes, or lack thereof. (She had been quite the sheltered mare, one can deduct.)
“I’m sorry, you took me off guard,” she stammers, and if horses could blush, she would be the color of spring roses. She pauses, her gaze running down the length of him in continued wonder. “I’m Chalmette,” she then continues quietly, finding it strange to form words. It had been so long since she had last spoken to anyone.
It is then that she spies the hint of a smile on his lips as he comments on her run, and she gradually feels her muscles begin to lose their tenseness. The irony of him fearful of something was certainly not fathomable to her. “Nothing… nothing…” she murmured, allowing the beginnings of a smile to dance across her lips as well. “Nothing that could ever harm you.” And that, probably, was very true.
chalmette
SHE EXHALES VANILLA LACE