Painted

The wind was cold, the sun was high, the clouds danced just above her head. Though in her mind it wasn’t sunny, it was cloudy and cold, a chill to the bone as her daughter had gone off with no trace. Her black and white painted canvas was slowly turning brown with the muddy marsh as her feet sank in and popped out, then oozed back into the mud. Her eyes were growing somewhat lifeless, with only a little light of hope to find her daughter. To her it was no use, but she had to do something rather than just stand there and wait for a wolf to bring her daughter by just like the one did with Hartheil’s body. A gruesome sight it was, but she was glad it was not her own child in the wolf’s jaws.

Her sound takers swiveled around as a shriek filled the air. Blue orbs turned to see a moose calf go down. Then a bellow was sounded and its mother had fallen at the jaws of wolves. Instantly her instinct struck her and she began to quicken her pace. Though the bog kept her movements slow as they suction her in. The pops got louder and she only hoped the wolves would be filled with their already dead catch. A poor ending for that one, but again she was thankful to the heavens that it was not herself and her daughter on the ground there.

Paper thins could take in the gentle scent of her daughter, Now leading her to even more wolves... To the Ruins. She hesitated before leaving the Bog, but why worry, if your daughter is dead, what point do you have to live. Her mind was screaming at her. Telling her to go or leave, there was no 'stay' option. "Prisoner..." She whispered and let her pistons carry her on. The tree’s swaying in a final blow, as if saying farewell to the mare as she walked on to the wolf infested land. Kissing her goodbye was the leaves in the trees as the fell helplessly to her feet, but she ignored it, she ignored it all... and continued.