She was tired. More tired than she could ever recall having been, a tiredness that went beyond her body to her mind and her very soul. She felt like a cloth that had been wrung too far, like a dandelion whose seeds had been scattered, like...like...like.
Like a mother who had been looking for far, far too long.
~~~
Felicite swooped down to the ground in a slow, graceful arc. Her wings had been protesting for the last hour at least, but she had pressed on until she felt them physically begin to falter. She knew it was laughable, her haste; she didn't even know where she was going, so it clearly couldn't matter how fast she flew. But after years of uncertainty, having a direction, even a hazy one, gave her new purpose. She had never been able to forgive herself for "abandoning" him, and it was that guilt that drove her. If only her wings could be on the same page!
At least this part of the land was pretty, she reflected as she looked around. The grasses that surrounded her were tall, lush and green; the water in the nearby stream was clear and cold and delicious. It was a little exposed for her comfort, but she knew from conversations with other Soquili that somewhere far ahead lay a massive inland lake, a community of humans, and an immense forest. It was the forest she sought, as hard as her search there would become.
"So long it has been...so long. Will I be at last able to see him, Giles? I know he cannot know me, but will he want to? Will he be able to forgive us, forgive me for what we allowed to happen?" Tilting her head upwards with closed eyes, Felicite could almost see the handsome face of Giles before her. How she missed him, her beloved mate. The face in her memory was the strong, full face of a stallion in the peak of health and life, not the sunken, haggard face of sickness and death she'd witnessed at the end. His loss had been terrible; with Giles' death, she had lost her first and only love, the Soquili who had been with her through both ecstasy and heartbreak. But though he was no longer with her in the flesh, she knew that Giles' spirit was always there beside her.
She could almost see him there before her; his strong, smiling jaw, his dazzling blue eyes, his short, brush-like mane that he never would grow out in spite of her teasing, and his brilliant red coat. She had always loved his vibrancy; he was not the most dramatic Soquili when it came to patterns since he had none, but there were none who could compare to the brilliance of his coloration. Even at the end, his color had shone. It was one of her favorite things about him.
Felicite had been so happy when their son had been born with the same coloring. Giles had been pleased as well, laughing as he nudged the newborn colt. "Such a bold fellow, just like his papa! Though with his mama's curls, and beautiful face mask..." She remembered clearly how her mate had lifted his head to smile at her as he said "We made not another swan, ma belle, but a cardinal!"
And so they had. The youngest of three, their third child and second son. From his father, he had inherited a brilliant red color; from his mother, her dark mask and her curls. From Felicite's own father, black accents to his hair and wings, and from her mother, brown patterning on his back legs. He was a Soquili, but he was also a cardinal; their brilliant little bird. As they tucked him into his basket, they had been certain that he would live up in spirit to the vibrancy of his coat.
Neither one of them had expected to lose him.