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 Posted: Fri Sep 23, 2022 12:39 pm
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Posted: Fri Sep 23, 2022 1:21 pm
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Autumn Baby
Hushabye, don't you cry.
Go to sleep my little baby.
Blacks and bays, dapples and grays.
When you wake you shall play
With all the pretty little horses.
It was a song that had been sung to her as a foal, and now she sang it to her own basket. Hers. It was hers. Marganita would be raising this foal to adulthood and it was hers. It was her child and her responsibility. How had she done this thing with that stallion? It had seemed harmless at the time. He was so attractive, and his face looked so haunted. She had wanted to make him happy for one night at least. But now each of them had a basket to raise. How could she possibly do this now, on her own? The reality and enormity of this situation had only just begun to sink into her mind. She slowly began to panic and her legs shook invisibly as she lay, next to the basket, with them folded beneath her.
Her sister stamped her hoof, rousing her from her fear. When had Marguerite arrived here? She had pointedly lay down with the basket away from the herd."That song doesn't even rhyme. I bet Mom made it up when we were born."
She turned her head away from the basket for a moment. "Is that a problem? What if she did? That makes it our song to sing." The truth was, it was a folk song that many mothers had sung to their offspring for many, many years.
"True." Nearby, Marguerite shuffled her hooves. "Can I get a closer look?"
Marganita, surprised, nodded her head slowly, as if a sudden movement would awaken the foal within. Maybe it would. But Marguerite's tone was unsure and it made Marganita wary. What was going on?
Marguerite stepped forward and lowered her head to look at all the beautiful markings on the basket. She did not know what they might mean. Were they the foal's colors, or was it just how the spirits had made the basket? She rested her soft pink nose on the basket's lid.
"What are you doing?" Alarmed, Marganita prepared herself to swat her sister in the face, with her own face. She couldn't think of anything else to do. Maybe stand up and shoulder-butt her away?
Soothingly, Marguerite said, "It's okay. It's... warm..." Her voice was so full of gentle emotion that Marganita was visibly put at ease. The basket also had a particular smell. Marguerite knew that subtle, clean smell. Baby. Marganita should know it too; they had both helped to care for their younger sister, Laelia. "I don't think you can do this alone, Sister. Raising it, I mean."
"Well..."
"I want to help you, if that is all right." Again, she sounded unsure. In reality she was not sure if the fiercely independent Marganita would accept help of any kind, no matter how much she needed it.
"Yeah. I'd like that," Marganita admitted tiredly. In all likelihood, she would be napping with the foal-inside-the-basket. It was only a matter of minutes at this point. That fatigue had blown away her hidden inner walls and opened her up to her sister. She was not only receptive to help, but she could feel her sister's desire to help, like a warm blanket.
"That's right, this herd is your family. We look out for each other. We will look out for you two. You two are our family. Please don't ever forget that." Marguerite smiled at her sister, whose face had slackened with imminent sleep.
"I won't. I appreciate it," Marganita drawled, feeling her eyes and tongue become heavier with fatigue. She had been awake for a long time. Days. She couldn't fight it any longer.
Marquerite watched her sister drift heavily into sleep. She must be exhausted after her trip back home, carrying the basket on her back without any help. Then, Marguerite moved to the other side of the basket to stand over them.
For all of the love that she had to give to her sister, Marguerite thought that Marganita had made a really boneheaded move. What mare goes to a mixer, and then does nothing? She knew the basics of how a foal was brought into this world. She knew there were ways to prevent this. How could she be so stupid? Or, had she really wanted a foal?
That thought stopped Marguerite's thoughts completely, for a moment. Was that it? Marganita wanted to be a mother? She turned to look down at her sister whose bobbing head had finally touched her nose to the grass. She seemed content, at least to the extent that she would not abandon the basket. Otherwise, Marguerite had to admit that she did not know what her twin was thinking. It made her sad, and scared. They were both so different yet Marguerite liked to think they had that strong bond that twins often share. Was that no longer the case?
She would have to wait to find the answers to any of her questions.
She looked around. Members of the herd were subtly watching the trio of two young adult soquili and a basket. These other soquili kept their distance out of respect but she fancied that she could detect their curiosity, protectiveness, and maybe even fear. She liked to think that she could read people but who really knew what was in the hearts of others?
Word Count: 880
(does not count lullaby)
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Posted: Sun Sep 25, 2022 2:16 pm
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The cool air had begun to set in around the edges of the daytime hours. Night crept in and stole the rays of early morning sunlight to create the twilight. Marganita was groggy and negligent in her actions as she foraged in the woods. Marguerite was nearby doing the same, but watchful and confident. Back with the herd, their mother and younger sister were sleeping with the basket, their bodies sandwiching it with their warmth.
Things had changed a little between the two sisters after Marganita had brought home the basket the other day. Twins, they would always be close on some level, but they had different, clashing, ideas that usually made their rapport shaky at best. But the past several days had shown Marganita that Marguerite genuinely cared for her and was willing to be less pushy and lecturing to show it. It was... touching.
The twins wore bags strapped around and behind their shoulders where they could reach. In those bags went the forage: herbs, delicious nutritious leafy greens, grasses, and berries. Marganita looked up with a gentle smile as she gazed over some underbrush at her sister.
They both tensed when they heard a rhythmic thumping and several snapped twigs. A quick "didn’t do it" look at each other and they shot back toward the sound. Marganita's jaw dropped when she saw a great stag in the distance. Little more than a silhouette, he was partially shrouded by the morning fog. They did not want any trouble so they finished up and trotted along the wooded path.
The vision of the reindeer stayed with the sisters. He seemed huge with that great rack of antlers. And his fur was bleeding-red with white spots. He was unmistakable, and should they see him again they would recognize them instantly.
Instantly, it would happen, Marganita recognized the stag later on that day. It was just too eerie how he slowly oozed out from the mists of the forest as if the fog itself did not want to let him go. And he was close. Too close. She reared up with a whinny and flared her batlike wings. The stag spooked and was gone.
"Marganita! You scared both of us!"
"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. He was so close I could feel his breath on me." Warm and gentle, the pulse of his breathing had been even and strong. "But, now that I think about it," she continued uncertainly, "he didn't seem like he had any bad intentions."
Nervously, Marguerite shivered. "Maybe. But I think we should head home. It's safer."
"No, I don't want to lead him back to the herd and my foal. It was hard enough to part with one of my children, I won't do it again!" Marganita flared.
"Okay, okay. Fold your wings. We'll stay." Marguerite shared a worried look with her sister and they went back to foraging, this time for shrubs and trees instead of things on the ground. It would give them better angle of sight. Nothing would sneak up on them!
The day ebbed away with the fog. The forest remained cool in the shade but warm in the sunlight. There were no more sightings, so they agreed that he likely had left their area. So they headed home.
Along the way home, a visitor joined their party. At the back, this stranger went undetected until Marguerite noticed that their shadows made three. Three shadows? She reared back and found the stag following along behind Marganita. He was clearly on her open side, as if looking out for her safety. Nevertheless, the stag reared up himself and they began a staring match. But nobody won because Marganita stepped between them.
"Stop this, both of you." Surprisingly, both the stag and her sister listened. "Why are you following... me?" She had no idea that two familiars could be with a soquili, so it never entered into her mind that he might indeed be there for her.
But no. The stag merely smiled.
"Do you understand my words?"
He nodded his head, and again he smiled gently, patiently.
"Do you want to come with us?" Marganita asked.
Again the rack bobbed, and the reindeer's big ears flopped forward and back ever so slightly.
Marganita exchanged a look with her sister. Do you think we should let him? she thought, as if her sister could hear her.
But Marguerite was perceptive and intelligent. She could read her sister's body language. Unfortunately it did not help with this decision. She smiled and shrugged. Perhaps he had a reason to meet the herd.
Marganita sighed. "Okay, you can come with us."
The stag followed along at Marganita's side until they returned to the herd. Many horses gathered to see the rare sight: a reindeer had come from far in the north to visit. Nobody knew his goal, nor his purpose. Not, that is, until he saw the basket.
The reindeer trotted lightly over to the basket. His weight seemed not to bend the grass at all. When he reached the basket, which in itself unnerved the mother, he lay down in the grass with his split hooves folded beneath his body. And from there he watched the goings on with great alertness.
"He's... my child's familiar?" Marganita asked incredulously.
But that seemed to be the case, and though she kept a close eye on the two for several days and more, never once did the stag do anything to raise her alarm. He was just calmly watched over the basket, eyes searching and ears swiveling. Eventually the herd and Marganita came to accept his presence. He became like family and he never once spoke a word. Perhaps he would speak for the child. Only time would tell.
Word Count: 961
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Posted: Sun Sep 25, 2022 2:26 pm
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