With powerful strokes the femme worked her way through the waves, the rhythm of her movements was in time with the beats of her heart. She was in a sort of trace - there was only the ocean swirling around her and she could go on swimming forever, there was no cold or exhaustion or fear of drowning. Imke knew where she was going, she had swum away from this place before, in fear, but now she was swimming toward it. There was no longer fear of this place as there had been when she left, no threat of disaster. She had heard whispers that the place of her birth had survived - in some form or other. If she kept her mind blank she could maintain her enduring trance.
A dark line appeared on the horizon and gradually came closer. The waves changed, smaller and more frequent as the water became gradually more shallow. Something brushed against her leg, an animal or plant, it did not matter. The trance was gone and Imke was aware of how much her legs were aching. Her nose and throat burned from all of the salt and water she had managed to inhale in her marathon swim. The waves grew taller around her, towering over and carrying her high before threatening to drown her. White foam began appearing, she was close to shore now. Just as her foot touched the sandy bottom a wave crashed over her, sending her unceremoniously toward shore. The petite lady managed to regain her feet before the waves washed her ashore.
Soaked and covered in sand the coal black mare emerged from the surf, her drenched pink tresses were plastered to her neck and face. It was spring time, and while the sun was warm, the ocean was not. She shook herself, attempting to dislodge the the water and sand that covered her. There was a strong breeze which promised to dry her quickly, though it caused her to shiver. That wind smelled of brine and organic matter.
She observed her surroundings with dark, judgemental eyes. This was not the place she had left as a young one; not the place she had frantically swum away from. She flicked her still sodden forelock from her vision to better observe her surroundings. The trees here were surprisingly new, and the undergrowth was not thick at all. The scent of horses was very faint here, though she could discern it. The waves crashing behind her prevented her from hearing anything useful. The lady stayed close to the beach, deciding to follow the coast and let the sun and brisk wind dry her off before she ventured into the woodlands. Herr hooves made no noise in the damp sand as she meandered along the waterfront. This was not the beach she had left from, the outline of the island was completely different from when she had fled in her childhood. But this was the right place, she could sense it, similar to how turtles returned to the beach they hatched on, it was instinct. Somehow, the earth beneath her was her home, though it looked nothing like how she had left it. The scent of other equine was growing stronger and more fresh now; though Imke's nostrils still burned from the brine and water.
Imke was young, petite and delicate looking; she did not have the most graceful lines or pleasant plumpness a female could possess, but neither was she unappealing. She was thin, not having found the best sustenance in places she had visited, the fact that she had managed the trip here would surprise anyone who set eyes on her. Despite her thinness - or perhaps because of it, it was possible to see that she was well muscled under her ebony coat. Her strides were sure as she moved along the beach, she wanted new of what had happened, she wanted to make certain this was her birth place, more than anything she wanted to be done running, she wanted to come home.
Imke
I'm a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm