It was strange to consider that the changing of seasons had once brought her such joy- the gradual residence of the chilling winds that would bite at her face as she flew, growing into warm thermals that ruffled her mane and feathers pleasantly. Golden eyes would alight as snow covered fields below changed into lush, grassy meadows. Vague recollections of races, of ebony and crimson wings beating near to her own, both heartening and despairing.
Now, that simple joy, like so many others, had been swept away with the tide.
That thought, lament, brought her guilt. She had much to be thankful for- a loving family, beautiful children, a wonderful home. Such pride in her father, still the undisputed leader of their small herd, her daughter, who followed faithfully in Nanaki's footsteps, and her other children that had grown up so beautifully. And yet, still, there was an emptiness in her heart; a wound scabbed over and no longer bleeding crimson tears, but one that had never completely healed. In a way, she supposed Cetra's protectiveness might have actually exacerbated the problem- she had been so unwilling to face the harsh truths that lay before her, and the offer to simply avoid them had been too large a temptation.
He was never coming back. She knew that. All of the hoping in the world, even when he did decide to give them another chance, could not salvage the relationship that had died with his abandonment. She had known this before, but could not let go of the possibility, the hope of rekindling what they had once had. Now that it was clear, that she was certain, that she could finally let him go... it hurt, yes, but there was a lightness returning to her steps that had not been there for a long time. She no longer bore the weight of the world on her shoulders, carrying the grief and hurt and distant hope of a love gone wrong- it was freeing.
And yet, the freedom of the skies called to her, and still she could not answer.
A glance towards the slightly disfigured wing at her side confirmed what she already knew, and knew well- the ability to fly was still beyond her, and forever would be. She looked almost each day to that same sight, hoping in vain that one day, it would simply be as it was, so she could find the solace she needed in the gentle wind's embrace. It was not to be- the hope was futile, but at least not a dark, unhealthy one. Wistful gazes to the sky would bring fond smiles of remembrance, and whether accompanied by heavier memories or the longing for brighter times, always brought a familiar light to her eyes.
Perhaps it was not too much to hope that she could one day share it, if not relive it.
