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 Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2013 4:45 pm
Tonight was no different.
The woods he picked through were not thick; they seemed to be patchy, opening up to spots of meadows, before the thickets closed in once again. Everything was still, quiet, and the only companionship for the stallion was a sliver of a crescent moon. That was just as well for him. Night time was his favored time, because he so rarely had to be seen, and better yet, so rarely had to cross paths of the fools which walked the earth. He did not have to face their judgments, their questions, their prying, or their staring. He did not have to be looked on or assumed the enemy, especially when caught feasting.
No, the stallion preferred his solitude, for it was the only place he felt he could truly, truly be himself. There was no standards to live up to, there was no reminder of his mixed and unwanted blood. It was just him and his shadow, and that was just as well.
Tonight, Ophiuchus was looking for a stream, pond, or puddle; some sort of area where water would quench his thirst. He had successfully hunted the night prior, and the day had been spent preening his wings, and feathers, and cleaning himself up from the mess. Unfortunately, all that grooming had left him with a parched tongue, and he knew of a few water sources in the area. The trick was remembering their exact locations, but he was confident in his navigational abilities. This was no desert, after all, and the male had learned to adapt with little.
Unfortunately, what he hadn't been prepared for, was the sound of movement, followed by what could have been . . .a voice? He stopped dead in his tracks, ears pricking, straining to hear what or who might be out there. Was it prey? Friend? Foe? The stallion held back a small snort -- he wasn't looking for company this starry night, but when was he ever? So it was, the stallion ever so carefully followed the direction of the noise, of the . . . the voice? Was that a voice he heard? Better to investigate a potential threat now and slip away unseen, than to throw caution to the wind and rely on hope that he wouldn't be bothered this night.
If he were lucky, he wouldn't need concern himself with this other presence, and could carry, once more, on his way.
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Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2013 5:11 pm
Zahariel stared up at the sky, wistfully watching the stars twinkle. Then, when one star seemed to shine the very brightest, it streaked across the sky. She gasped, caught on the memory of a tale she had heard as a foal. Something... magical. It was said that sometimes a star would leave its place in the sky, and that star, as it fell, became a Wishing Star. A little part of Zaha wanted to believe in the magic, wanted to believe that something beautiful could happen to her, too. She wanted... to believe that someone, out there, was listening to her silly little whims. So, stepping quietly forward, she lowered her head to give voice to the deepest, most fervent desire of her heart. It seemed almost too much to ask for, but maybe, just maybe, the star wouldn't mind too much. She didn't want to put it out of its way, not at all. If it was too much too grant, surely it would not concern itself with her wish.
"When I was little, I would gather up snow with my nose, and roll in it to try to be beautiful like my mother, the way she wanted me to be. But it always melted off, and disappointed her. If I could have a friend, just one friend, who loved me and wanted me for who I am, that would be the most wonderful gift in the world. My father was so good, wishing star, even though he had spikes like mine, and they called him fallen. I try to be good like him. I want to be good, and strong. I like to watch flowers grow, wishing star, and I want to be beautiful like them. They open up to the sun, and I've never had a sun in my life. That's what I want. Please, wishing star, I want a sun. Please give me a sun. I'm tired of being a disappointment, of letting the family down. If I have to go off on my own, I want to have someone to walk beside me, and warm me."
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Posted: Sun Jul 14, 2013 12:41 am
Ophiuchus moved silently between the trees, only pausing when he caught the faintest sight of movement. The small, patch of woodlands he'd been navigating once more opened up, and within the small clearing was a shadow. There was a dark shadow among the meadow, a petite sized soquili; the creature was just a bit difficult to discern, but his night vision did not fail him. No, he caught sight of a soquili, and when he did get a good look at them, he could not help but do a double take.
What drew his eye first were the spikes that danced down the mares back. Spikes that were strangely reminiscent to his own. She had more, and in more peculiar places than he, but there were definitely spikes on her tail, just like his! Though she lacked the ulun'sutis wings, it took a moment, but something even more startling caught his gaze. Feathers. The mare had feathers sprouting from just behind her ears, feathers that were very much similar to the hippo'gryphs of home. A single horn sprouted from her head . . . unicorn? . . . maybe. . . . but feathers and spikes?
His breath almost caught, for he could not truly imagine her to be of a similar breed. He knew, deep down, in his heart of hearts, she was not at all like him and yet. . . Was it so impossible? She was unfamiliar, and her lack of wings told him clearly that she was certainly not of the desert tribes -- they all had wings. Still, the surprise had reminded Ophiuchus how very much so he still possessed feelings. Loneliness being one of them. He missed the familiar deserts, he even missed the traditions of his family and tribe. He was not an island, he was never meant to be truly alone, and for a brief moment, seeing what might have been, with a stretch of imagination, another hippo'suti, the stallion's heart ached.
Ah, but he should not disturb the mare. He knew better.
So it was, the purple eyed stallion was just about to take his leave when she lowered her head and began to speak. He did not mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as he registered her words, as soon as he heard the beginnings of her plea, he froze and could not tear himself away. The inflection within every word suddenly hit him, and the incredibly personal, incredibly private message that she ebony mare spoke, absolutely tore him to pieces.
It was . . . heartbreaking. Heartbreakign in that this stranger, this shadow of a mare might have felt such lonelienss, such yearning for acceptance. And yet, every word resounded clearly with the stallion. Had he not once, as a foal, tried to rip out his feathers? Had he not once, as a foal, tried so hard to please his ulun'suti family? Had ht not tried to belong? Past the bitterness, past the anger he quietly chewed upon, the aloof stallion could not help but be reminded of his own feelings. . . of his own shortcomings, of that yearning to find acceptance, to belong.
It was a fate he had long ago given up. And yet. . .
This mare. This stranger was wishing for something he had once desired as a youth. This stranger. . . . . she wanted a friend. Needed a friend. Surely. . . surely could he not be one? The thought surprised him, and yet, he knew he could not turn away. He knew he could not simply pretend he had not heard her plea, could not simply walk away. He knew he should. Her prayer was not meant for him, was not meant to be overheard by anyone but the great spirits. He had sullied her hearts desire, had inadvertently tainted it. . . . so how could he walk away with such knowledge?
Nobody should live a life feeling so alone.
Nobody should feel what he'd felt.
Nobody should be rejected by family.
No. . . . for as aloof as the cold stallion knew himself to be, Zahariel's wish slipped underneath his walls and resonated strongly with his old, wistful yearnings. No. Until she found acceptance with someone, perhaps, more fitting; until she found true friends, until her wish was granted, Ophiuchus could not. . could not just walk away.
. . . but how to approach? He didn't want her to know he'd overheard. So it was, the stallion remained still within the night, allowing some time to pass. Like a pale statue, the ghost said nothing, did nothing, and simply waited. He didn't want her to think he'd been just around the corner, and yet. . . he didn't dare leave and return, only to find her gone.
Thankfully, the mare seemed intent on staring up at the night sky. He didn't want to surprise her, and yet, he . .had to find something neutral to say. Something that would not alarm her, or send her fleeing for the hills. "It is indeed a good night to stargaze." He spoke, his words foreign even to himself. That was the best he could do? That was . . all he could think to say? The typically aloof stallions words sounded rusty from disuse, even for him, and he gave a small clearing of his throat. Giving a small, stiff, nod of his head, he hastily added, ". . . forgive me. I should not have interrupted." Which was indeed the truth.
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Posted: Sun Jul 14, 2013 12:35 pm
Zahariel had not expected someone to actually come to her. She had not anticipated that the star would work its magic so quickly. Startled, Zaha drew back, turning wide, softly glowing eyes on Ophiuchus. "Are you my wish come true?" The stallion who walked into her little clearing was a beautiful white, with soft silvery grey. His eyes glowed purple, a color which Zahariel had never before seen in someone's eyes. They reminded her of her father's eyes, apart from the color. "There was a wishing star," she said, by way of explanation. He was... sorry to have interrupted her? Zaha watched him with faint confusion, ears perking forward, and then laying back, the feathers on her little headwings flattening and puffing up by moments.
"Forgive you? But why?" He hadn't... done anything, had he? She'd been so lonely, but... were those spikes on his head, and his tail? He had huge wings, much bigger than any she'd seen before. She lowered her gaze, realizing that she'd been staring, and knowing it to be more than rude. He probably didn't like it when people stared at him, even when it was an admiring gaze. Those really were such pretty wings. "I was all by myself, anyway. I wasn't doing anything important." Just... wishing. Wishing, oh so fervently, for some companionship. For someone who might understand, and love her for... herself.
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Posted: Sun Jul 14, 2013 1:05 pm
Ophuchus studied the mare, now that she had turned to face him. Her eyes glowed like starlight, standing out against the solid ebony that made up the rest of her coat. Now that he could better see, he knew for certain she was not of hippo'gryph lineage, nor of ulun'suti blood, but. . . that was all right. Whoever this mare was, whoever it was that the spirits had lead him to this night, she was in great need. He would help her, if he could. At the very least, he would try.
Her words did surprise him, and the stallion averted his gaze, for just a moment. Was he her wish come true? Well, he knew he was not a wish, he knew he was not at all sent on some quest by some wishing star. . . He had simply been passing by, and had overheard her desire. Ah, but to be honest with her or let her believe? Which one would cause her more disappointment? "I'm not sure," he admitted truthfully, quietly. "I suppose it depends on what you were wishing for. Either way, I was passing through when I caught sight of you standing, looking up at the stars."
He felt awkward, speaking so freely to a stranger. But the mare walked with such a burden on her shoulders, such pain within her heart of hearts, what else could he do? He couldn't turn away, didn't want to. Not when he knew that same hurt. . . not when he had grown up in such a fashion. "Oh, I don't know about that," he finally stated, offering a faint, small smile. That felt as foreign as all this conversation. He'd never had much reason to smile, and when he did, his fangs often poked through. It usually was better not to do so at all. "It sounds to me that you just finished making a wish. That sounds rather important, to me . . . don't you agree?"
It might have been the most important thing the mare could have ever done. To open up ones heart so freely, so innocently; to put so much hope in to their words, to practically beg the spirits. . . . that was important. It had been brave of her to do, for it was something Ophiuchus feared to even think about or consider. He had given up on wishes and hope, long, long ago.
He was not her wish. But, until she found it, maybe he could help. It was the least he could do to an unknowing, kindred spirit.
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Posted: Sun Jul 14, 2013 7:40 pm
... Her wish? Important? Zahariel drooped, glancing away, and her feathers flattened once more. "Oh. I. No, it... it isn't important. I'm sorry to have bothered you." His smile was a very nice one, but... but surely his time ought not to be wasted in such a way. Zaha felt terrible for having troubled him so, for having burdened him with her shameful self pity. That was no doubt all that it was. And he had heard her at least enough to know why she had been out there in the first place. ... And she'd given it away, too, but... but... she didn't want to inconvenience him. "The stars are bright tonight," she said softly, concealing a deeply rooted pain. Of course he could not possibly be her wish, what had she been thinking?
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Posted: Mon Jul 15, 2013 7:29 pm
Ophiuchus watched as the mare seemed to droop, her headwings flattening, her entire visage taking on this air of unimportance. She absolutely, positively looked like she was going to shrink away, and it broke his heart. Here she stated that her wish wasn't important, wasn't significant; here she was apologizing for bothering him, when it had been he who had stepped out and interrupted her.
Her lack of confidence, her certainty that she was some problem, some pain. . . She was practically wilting before him, and the pale stallion didn't know how to fix it. Friendship. Acceptance. Love. She craved it, needed it, and while he knew he was not truly her wish-come-true, while he was not anything special like that. . . . He could at least offer her some of what she asked for, or at least try to offer such a thing. "Please, you. . . . you haven't been a bother," he explained quietly, gently, but almost shyly all the same. He wasn't good at this, wasn't used to being around, and a very small portion of him was as anxious as the shadow mare before him.
Who was he, anyway? Other than a similarly rejected stallion, he knew nothing about making friends; nothing about self-acceptance. And yet. . .. He also knew what it was like to grow up and find that pain overbearing. To form a shield, which turned in to bitterness, disinclination, irritation, and mistrust. He lived that life everyday, and he . . . did not wish for this stranger to suffer through the same.
Surely, he had to at least reach out and try.
"I'm the one who stumbled upon you, after all." His tail gave a small, nervous twitch, even as he turned his violet gaze away from the mare, and up to the stars. ". . . They are indeed. The constellations are telling their stories loudly, tonight." He spoke, picking out the various sets of stars that he'd grown up with, that he recognized. Granted, there were many that had been lost since his travel south from the desert, but a few were still quite recognizable. All the legends, the stories, the mythology and adventure. . .
Well. They mattered little in these lands. The great heroes he'd grown up with had never been his, after all. There were no stars that spoke of half-breeds, mongrels, and mutts. Giving a small shuffle of his wings, the stallion realized that he had forgotten to introduce himself, or at least offer a name. That would probably be a place to start, assuming the mare wasn't ready to be rid of him.
Giving a small, polite bow, he attempted to remedy his rudeness."I'm Ophiuchus. Might I inquire your name?"
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Posted: Sun Jan 05, 2014 9:03 pm
Zahariel paused, considering his words. She might easily have fled, save that he made it clear that she was wanted, was not an imposition. Then, wonder of wonders, he gave her his own name. "Oh, it is Zahariel. But I have never heard of stories from the stars." Of constellations she had heard, but she did not know what stories might come with them. Were they friends? Did they have tales of their own? Did they love, laugh, cry? To think that stars might have stories of their very own was somehow heartening. Perhaps Zahariel might one day have stories to tell. His words distracted her from the private pain that had brought her out beneath these very stars, and she listened intently, hopeful to hear more about them.
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Posted: Tue Jan 14, 2014 6:04 pm
Zaharial. It was a lovely name, really, and Ophiuchus committed it to memory. Surely, he would never have believed the ebony mare to have such low self-worth had he not heard it himself. And oh, how it had struck a chord. Ophiuchus truly understood what it was like to be outcast ones whole life, especially by ones parents. To live life on the outisde, to know you were different, unwanted, unincluded simply because of ones appearance. . . After they had been freed, he'd been encouraged to disappear. And so, the pale stallion had. Life in the Kawani was not much better. .. he still looked peculiar, was still stared at, and mistrusted. The fact he fished and was more omnivorous than herbivore often wrought disgust or mistrust. . Ah, but what did he care?
He didn't, or so he lied to himself.
Still, this mare before him wanted so desperately to be accepted by someone. While Ophiuchus could never dream, not in a thousand years, of some great romance like Zaharial wished. .. he could at least befriend her, until her wish came true. It was something she needed. It was something he needed himself, not that he'd ever admit such a thing.
"It's good to meet you, Zaharial," he stated quietly, tearing his gaze away to look back up at the night sky. "I was brought up on the stories. Back in the northern desert, I knew all their names, all their stories. There are great heroes up there, you know. . . . there is great love, but also great loss, and tragedy. And some nights, the spirits speak the stories louder." He noticed that the mare seemed alert, staring up at the night above them.
"Do you see that small group there?" He stepped a little closer, using his wing as a guide. "The three sparkling diamonds, with the dimmer, fainter star hovering just below? Those are known as Helaia's Tears. It is. . it is not a happy story, I'm afraid." He warned. "The story goes that there were once four sisters of Wind Ulunsuti. One was full of beauty and beloved by all; the second sister so intelligent, it was rumored she could outwit the craftiest of desert fox and two-legged monster; and the third sister was so great a warrior, she never lost a battle. The fourth sister had no beauty, was simple of mind, and rather clumsy. She could not compete with her sisters fair, and sly, and talented. So it was, she would weep at night, and pray that the spirits would take pity on her. The desert wind, hearing her cries, would bring her pleas to the great spirits. . . but it was all for naught. So, the wind would do what he could to comfort the mare, and tickle her ears and run through her mane, and it too, would moan and sigh in distress.
"Well, the story goes that during the great heat of summer, a Fire Ulunsuti came to the land. He was the strongest of his tribe, the most handsome, and the most cunning. He was seeking out a mate, and all four of the girls were to meet him. Well, the three sisters knew their poor sister would never catch the eye of Gibtros, for that was his name. But, though they loved her, they were ashamed. So, the lured Helaia out in to the desert, deliberately misinforming her of the arrival of Gibtros. They told her they needed to find cactus flowers to put in their hair, to dress her up so she might hide all her flaws from the Fire 'Suti. Believing them, the mare dutifully began to hunt for flowers with them. The sisters told her to search to the west, and they would search the other directions, and they would find her as soon as the perfect flowers were picked. Unfortunately, the three sisters knew Helaia had no sense of direction; they were to fly back and meet Gibtros alone, and would only return after the meeting had finished. This way their sister would not embarrass herself, or their family. So, the three began the journey back, but did not plan on the Desert Wind to hear of their plan. Enraged by their cruelty to their sister, enraged that his great love might be treated, the wind kicked up a massive haboob, and sent sand and stone to condemn the sisters three. Unfortunately, he did not plan on Helaia to have suspected her sisters ill treatment; while she was not terribly clever, she was not stupid, and she knew what they were trying to do. She had followed her sisters, chasing them right in to the storm in an attempt to save them. She had heard their screams for help as they were battered and bashed. For while Helaia may not have had beauty, or great hunting skills, or great intelligence, she was very brave and incredibly loyal. She did not fear death if it meant saving her sisters.
By the time the rage of Desert Wind had passed, he realized what he had done. By slaying the sisters, he involuntarily slayed his great love as well. Mourning his beloved, he took them to the heavens, where they remain today. The three sisters, of course, grow bright -- confident as ever. But Helaia, the dimmest of the four stars, is dim . . . not out of lack of confidence, but because a piece of her remained, and remains with, the Great Desert Wind. She is the cool of the night breeze; the playful tickle in another's hair. She tempers her love, and always promises that the great storms of the desert will and do and shall always pass."
In retrospect, the hippo'suti realized that, perhaps, it was not the most appropriate of stories to tell Zaha, but. . .it was the first constellation he could see from home. There were many star patterns this far south he did not recognize, not at all.
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Posted: Sun Jan 19, 2014 10:36 pm
Oh. Oh, oh it was... it was too painful to hear of poor Helaia's fate! Zahariel's eyes flooded with tears of sympathy. "Oh, poor Helaia, and her poor Desert Wind. Did... did they get to be together, in the end?" she asked, peering up through a fringe of bangs mournfully at the stallion who was not her wish. "It is too bad, too hard. Can... can anyone make it right for them?" It broke her heart to hear of that great tragedy, to hear of how such a wonderful love had been laid low. Her ears drooped, headwings wilting in dismay; she knew all too well what it was to be the unwanted sister. She... she was not beautiful, like her sisters, or wise, or talented.
She was nothing, just as Helaia had been. She did not dare to compare herself to a beautiful star, to one of the sisters. Even Helaia was surely treasured by the great Desert Wind. She turned glowing white eyes upon the stars in question, a few stray tears trailing down her cheeks. Surely she could comfort them somehow, surely she could... could make it better, if... maybe she could listen to the stars, and then poor Helaia would not be quite so lonely. At least she had the wind for company, but... was that enough?
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Posted: Mon Jan 20, 2014 7:29 pm
Ophiuchus inwardly winced as tears filled the mare's eyes. It hadn't occurred to him that the bittersweet story might cause the ebony female to respond with such empathy and compassion, much less was likely not the sort of story that was good to tell another. Oh, he was a foolish beast, and an idiot. The mare had already been distraught before he'd interrupted her yearning for a friend, and now, the first thing he'd done was turn her to tears! "Ah, fear not, Miss Zaharial," he finally spoke, trying to find words so he might reassure the mare. Delicately, shyly, he reached forward with a wing to brush the tip ever so delicately across her cheek. It was far too bold of him, but he did hate to see her in tears.
"They are all together now, sharing their beauty and talents with all those that look upon them. And Helaia, she not only gets to share the sky with her sisters, but especially gets to be with the Desert Wind, for now and for always. Back home, it is her star that is praised when a haboob passes, for is she who calms the temper of the great desert wind. And the zephyr winds that blow through, far gentler than the Desert Wind himself, are thought to be her children. Though there was tragedy in her life, she found peace and love now that she resides in the night sky." He wasn't sure if she would find any of this comforting, but he did hope. His spiked and feather tipped tail swished anxiously behind him, and he bemoaned his thoughtlessness.
"I'm sorry. I . . . wish I had a nicer story to tell, but many of these stars I do not recognize." If he were of quicker wit or creativity, perhaps he could make up a story but . . he did not wish to lie to the mare. Nor did he wish to offend the spirits and the stars. Their stories were sacred to Ophiuchus and, while there were no stories of halfbreeds like himself, they were of his families heritage and line. They were legends of old, and in them, he truly did believe.
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Posted: Mon Jan 20, 2014 7:46 pm
Zahariel was very surprised to feel a soft feathery brush against her cheek. He... he was wiping away her tears. Why was he doing that? Confused, the little black mare peered with wide, glowing eyes upon the stranger who was not her wish. "Are they... very happy?" She knew what it felt like to love someone, even though they had discounted you. She knew that feeling very, very well. Perhaps Helaia's sisters had come to regret their decision. Perhaps... as stars, they had grown wiser.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, or to make you think it wasn't a nice story. It is just that... I saw myself in Helaia. Not as beautiful, or as clever, or as strong as any of my sisters." She averted her gaze, a little ashamed of herself for comparing herself to such a grand and beautiful thing as a star. How could she have thought it right to feel a kinship with one?
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Posted: Mon Jan 20, 2014 8:14 pm
When Zahariel turned to him, and peered up at him with an expression he couldn't identify, he was quick to pull his wing back, and fold it tight against his side. He didn't want to distress her further, and it had been far too bold of him to cross that line. He shouldn't have touched, but her tears. . . She had cried too much this night already. "They're all happy," he assured quietly, even if he didn't know the details of such joy. There were only so many stories, but he liked to think they were. "The stars are still shining, and that is joy enough. They are all together, and there is love, between sisters and their individual consorts, I'm sure." Even the legendary Gibtros had a place among the stars, though he could not yet see such a constellation in these new lands. Still, it did not matter much . . . He knew the stories, even without the stars.
"No, I promise, you didn't offend. It is good that you see yourself in Helaia; she is a well regarded figure among my home, and I'm quite sure she looks down, and sees herself in you. Were you not wishing on a star, earlier? That . . . that is quite reminiscent of how she'd speak to the spirits while her beloved Wind would listen. Take heart in Helaia, when you doubt your beauty or wisdom, and remember all the gifts you truly have within your heart." Ah, but Ophiuchus did see beauty and wisdom and sweetness, even if Zaharial did not. "Perhaps you will get your wish that you wished, and he shall become your very own Desert Wind." And wouldn't that be a beautiful thing? Certainly, the young mare deserved it. . .
And no, he was not going to add the caveat that Helaia, and all the stories he was told, were only for pure ulun'suti foals. Half-breeds like himself weren't allowed to look upon such stars for guidance. . . And while the desert had never had outsiders before, since they had all been but trapped together, he was certain such an admonishment went for outsiders too.
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Posted: Sat Jul 26, 2014 8:53 pm
The tiniest of fragile hopes began to grow within Zahariel's white, glowing eyes, and she watched the stallion with the light of it in her gaze. Oh, she hoped that the stars might hear her. That someone... someone out there wanted to be her special friend. Her sun. A star that shed its life so generously into her life. "Do... do you suppose that some day I might have my very own Desert Wind?" she asked, hopeful beyond all that she knew she dared be. Wistfully, she waited for his response, hanging on his every word. Ears pricked curiously forward, she listened. Listened, and hoped. Oh, to be given such a wonderful companion! She... she could hardly imagine what it might be like. What it could be like... to have a friend.
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Posted: Mon Aug 11, 2014 3:58 pm
Ophiuchus gazed down at those glowing, white, eyes. Surely, even the most cruel, and heartless of beasts, couldn't resist such a plea. The mare before him was so fragile, so easily broken in spirit, that he couldn't possibly consider any other confession than the words he spoke. "Without a doubt. I truly, truly, believe that you shall find your Desert Wind, your Night Song, your most Precious Friend. Helaia smiles down on you, remember," he added with a slight smile, allowing his spiked, feathered-tail to wag a bit. How could the ebony mare not be swept up by some tender heart? How could she live this world so alone? Ophiuchus knew why he roamed alone, but he was not Zaharial, and he certainly couldn't fathom how she was left to pray to the moon in need of a friend or a love.
"Simply give it a little time." He encouraged with a small dip of his head. "I'm sure the spirits have a most wonderful sort to send your way. It just takes time to create such wishes, but the outcome? It must surely be brilliant, just for you." While it was true, Ophiuchus couldn't actually say whether this was so or not, it didn't stop him from trying to assure the mare. Her heartache pained him, and he was a complete stranger! Ah, but he was sure it would not take long for Zaharial to find a place of belonging. He could linger as long as he liked, if the mare was willing, but he could not believe that she would not be welcome in some group, with some new friends, with some new kindnesses. She was too sweet, and the world could not be so cruel as to forget her.
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