Dual Heartbreak
The large grassy field stretched wide and endless, mirroring a vast sea but of tall grass bending and shuddering beneath the weight of the loud storm. Wind rushed low across the land, flattening silver-green waves that rippled towards the mountains in the distance, dark and immovable, their tall peaks now swallowed by heavy clouds that churned and folded in slow, threatening motion. The sky hung low and bruised, thick with charcoal and slate, the air constantly trembling with the promise of thunder. Rain fell hard and relentless, not in gentle drops but in a pounding curtain that blurred the horizon and turned the earth dark and slick, while water now gathered quickly in the dips of the land, filling hoofprints and hollows, turning the field into a patchwork of shining puddles and mud. No one would be foolish enough to leave the safety of their home in this storm.
Yet, through it all, Taylor was running. Her worn boots slipped and caught, slipped and caught again, grass whipping against her legs, rain soaking her clothes until they clung heavily to her dark skin. Her blonde hair, albeit a tad darkened by the storm, stuck to her face and neck, and even the ink on her arms slowly blurred beneath the running water. Her breath came sharp and ragged, breaking in her chest and tears streamed down her face, indistinguishable from the rain, but they burned where the cold water did not. Her expression was tight, shattered, the kind of grief that lived behind the eyes and refused to be swallowed. The young woman was running like someone trying to outrun memories, like someone who had left something behind... or rather, someone who had been left. It wasn't fair. Why did everyone except for her get to be loved by the person they wanted the most?
The wind roared loudly in her ears, and thunder muttered somewhere far off. She didn't see the rise in the ground. Her foot struck something uneven; a hidden mound, and suddenly the world tilted. Her balance broke and her momentum carried her forward, and with a sharp cry she went down hard, splashing into a cold, muddy puddle. Water soaked through her clothes instantly, shockingly cold, knocking the breath from her lungs. For a moment, she just lay there, sobbing harshly. Rain hammered her back and mud smeared her hands. She was about to let out an anguished scream, when she suddenly realized that something was standing in front of her. Taylor then pushed herself up slowly, water dripping from her chin, her blonde curls plastered across her eyes. The woman blinked against the rain, and then froze. A... a pony?
She was tall for a cob; fourteen hands, and there was something rather solid and grounded about her presence, like she belonged to the land itself. The storm seemed to break around her, rain tracing down the curve of her neck and along the gentle slope of her shoulders. Her coat was unlike anything Taylor had ever seen. She was a greying bay roan, the dark warmth of her bay softened by a growing dusting of silver. Across her face and flank, pale dapples had begun to emerge, almost luminous through the rain. And on her belly and flank, those dapples had... formed the unmistakable shape of a heart, subtle but perfect, as if the storm itself had revealed it. How odd? Two bloodmarks marked her coat as well, one circling her left eye, two dark streaks that trailed downward, giving the strange illusion that she was crying - permanent tears etched into her face. The other began at her left foreleg and climbed upwards across her shoulder, a deeper shade of bay that curved into another heart-shaped mark.
She was strange, but she was beautiful. And she was standing very, very still, watching Taylor. The pony lowered her head, her ears soft and forward, her dark eyes calm, gentle in a way that felt almost knowing. Then her muzzle touched the cying woman's cheek. The touch was light, almost tentative, but it broke something open inside her, and Taylor's breath hitched. Before she could think, before she could even question anything, her hands moved. The blonde reached forward, wrapping her arms around the pony's neck. Mud smeared against damp hair and warm coat, rain running down both of them. She held on tightly, desperately, her tear-streamed face pressing into the mare's mane as the sobs she'd been outrunning finally tore free. Her shoulders shook, her fingers tangled deep into the thick hair at the crest of the pony's neck.
The little mare didn't move nor step away, instead stood there, lowering her head slightly as if to fold around Taylor's shoulders. Her breath moved slow and even against the blonde's arm, and once, gently, she exhaled, warm air brushing the side of Taylor's neck. The storm continued to rage around them, rain still pounding the earth and thunder now rolling over the mountains. Yet, in the middle of that wild, breaking world, Taylor kept clinging to this steady creature, not wanting to let go. In this moment, it was almost impossible to tell who needed that hug more. Was it Taylor, who was running from a heart that had finally shattered? Was it the lonesome mare? Or perhaps, it was both of them, lost in the storm and now found, maybe finally latching onto something that wouldn't turn away.
