if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind | brine

[Brine]

brine

I turned off my light, harder to find
that way

Surely there are lots of things that come to mind when you’re going to die. They say you hear new sounds, smells are more vibrant, you notice things you wouldn’t have noticed before. They say you find clarity, as if everything in life leading up to that moment will suddenly make sense.

They say you served a purpose.

She stands a lone mouse amongst a sea of cats and owls. As the sun descends behind the water, she makes her way down the ragged cliff edge until her black hooves blend into the night sand and water begins to rush its way around her pasterns. The soft wind, the silence, it inhales her as the night sky always did.

The only time she feels alive was when everyone else feels dead.

Her mind always trickles to Ruthless, once her whole golden world and now no more meaningful than the stallion who helped create her. In the end, it is true. Brine has never been ready to raise a child, and running has always been her greatest strength.

She wonders what her golden child has grown to, with her shadowed wings and wild eyes. She wonders if perhaps Ruth has had a child, or if she’s made some friends. Do they treat her well? Has she been hurt?

Does it matter if she has been? Brine knew her right to that knowledge had been forfeited the moment her small, naive fawn had disappeared into the treeline with the accompany of the Taigan recruiters. And yet, she had allowed it. So much so that she had even turned herself towards a different direction, a better direction. A new life.

A joke.

Wind lefts from the north, lifting her mane as if waving a surrendering flag. But our little shadow doesn’t know that yet, she doesn’t know who lingers in the depths of the water.

@[Ivar]