The days moved swiftly and the foal in her charge flourished, a once sickly thing, now able to stand. Almost continuous care, attention and encouragement made what should have died, eventually canter and gallop along with its brethren, against all odds.
Rhayvan began to thrive, like the sickly foal who had little hope, she suddenly found what could bring her from her darkest days, companionship.
The savior who first tended her wounds offered her name on that dark and dismal night, but Rhayvan preferred the alternative. A name bestowed on the woman by another of the horselands, it being Blossom. Perhaps she favored the name because her own name was taken from nature, though it was more likely that foreign names were difficult to remember. Several times she visited Blossoms home, at first to see how her skin mended after the cruel and brutal ordeal, but, once her mind and body healed sufficiently, the woman became her tutor. Twas not a study of words or numbers, for these Rhayvan knew quite well, rather it was a study of nature, the properties of plants, animals and minerals. An eager student, soon she would concoct a very fine tonic and salve to aid with bruises and pain, but although soothing, these did not appease her mind, she wished the woman to make good on her promise, a promise to be able to protect herself. New lessons were agreed upon, ones she swore never to pass on to another.
Then, there was the Nightingale, a man sweet with words and song, a stranger whom spoke with her and two others in the inn. Jests and mockery did not sit well with the large man, he seemed prideful, and with his sullen mood his native tongue would speak. The Raven followed the Nightingale, apologising for the offence they caused, and all seemed forgiven. Days had passed since she believed she had upset him, a man of strange words given by a strange voice, yet a friendship was forged. She, a slight, short thing, dark haired and pale of skin, he, far greater, fairer, taller, broader and perhaps there was truth in his blood having something to do with this. Kindness came from his mouth, compassion, good humor, stories and never once a complaint at her endless questions. Many words they shared, in the town and then at the barn where she resided and she became entranced by this man from distant lands.
He did not force her, he did not encourage her, he only wished her to feel calm, to feel safe, to feel protected. As the long shadows crept up the side of the barn walls, as the oil lamp flickered and the dogs curled at the side of the bed, they shared a kiss, but not one of lust, not one to be forgotten the next day, but a kiss in a perfect moment, and from that their bodies eventually became one until morns first light.
