s w a h i l i
take a drunk girl home
let her sleep all alone
leave her keys on the counter
your number by the phone
pick up her life she threw on the floor
The little mare was silent as she crept through the estate her father considered to be his pride and joy. The power it showed with it's size, perfect manicured laws - even in the heart of Solterra, beneath the pounding sun. So perfect, so well maintained, so idealized. The main house was kept lit well, fresh, new furniture with each passing year (sometimes each passing season). New garments for the daughters, jewelry when they asked for it. Perfect princess paraded about and never allowed to be touched. Precious treasures that he would see well sought but matched with ideal, highly ranked males who would give them the finest in life.
And then there was Swahili. The unfortunate product of an affair. A bastard child that was almost turned away the same day her mother left her before the manor and made a run for it. It was Addy who spoke up, swearing, vowing to watch her, help her, protect her - gave her the means to stay. And yet she always felt the outcast. Her father who ignored her existence. Older siblings who scoff at her - the unwanted bastard daughter. ANd now, as a lovely mare, into her prime, while her sisters would have perfect matches made, she knew what awaited her was a match of power. She could be wed off to who ever the highest bidder was. A disgusting older gentleman looking for a fresh, young play thing. A dastardly stallion with a cruel side that needed a pretty princess to pull under his thrall.
Her future was bleak - and with that acknowledgement, came her desires to sneak out, to find freedom where she could. Because she knew her life would forever be tied to her powerful father and his will. Swahili Atraer had no escape in sight. Particularly because Addy's wellbeing depending on her as well, not just because of his troubles lately, but also because the knowledge that her father would willingly hurt her older brother to harm her mentally, to punish her, was well acknowledged. No, unlike that wild, and spicy mare that made her heart ache with the familiarity of freedom and being able to just be the gypsy child she had been raised to be for the first half year of her life; she couldn't just escape and run for it. She had a duty to the House Atraer. She may not be a treasured Princess, but she was still a Daughter of House Atraer, so she would settle with the simple things.
Like sneaking out. Hooves carried her away from her father's home, through the desert as she made way to the Oasis, where a small grotto was hidden by dense foilage. Looking around slowly, she eyed the area around her, making sure there was no one watching. Seeing no one, the desert blossom pushed through the otherwise solid looking wall of vegetation, parting it like a curtain, and slipping into the tunnel behind, following it, pausing occasionally at points where the tunnel diverged, making sure to make all the right turns. Seeing the fabric swaying ahead, the female let a smile break through her muzzle, and she kicked off her hooves, pushing through the fabric and into the set up hidden grotto, fabric hanging from the roof, pillows against one wall, bright colors, patterns, trinkets all reminding her of home with her mother - part of a gypsy caravan. She smiled warmly, settling down into the pillows and rolling to stare up through the whole in the ceiling that flooded this hidden grotto with sunlight that helped feed the vegetation in the area.
It was a lonely existence, both inside and outside of House Atraer, living in solitude as she did, but at least she had some freedoms.
"Speech"
Thoughts
Open to any
Notes: <3
