She felt as though her life was on a merry-go-round and she couldn’t get off. Everything since Metaphor’s death had seemed to speed by in a blur of pain and hurt and laughter and joy. Nothing was clear to her and it seemed she had more questions than answers. And yet, she couldn’t step off this merry-go-round to save her life. Days and nights kept coming, the sun rising and setting and she still seemed as though she was standing still. Her son was growing so much each day and yet, she felt as though she was missing all his milestones, missing precious moments while she was stuck feeling as though her life wasn’t going anywhere.
The ghost of the woods had not helped her through her depression, only made her question herself even more. If the ghost did not find her honest and true, then what was she? She had so many questions, so many unanswered prayers. Was she good enough for Denocte? Was she worthy enough to be their champion? Was she worthy enough to parent a child who only wanted her love.
The sun had risen and Katniss found that she was still standing in front of the lake, standing there since when the ghost had sent her back. Had she truly not been home yet? Had she really spent all night out here thinking and dwelling upon things she couldn’t change?
With a heavy sigh, the mare turned away from the lake, turning away from her reflection and her feelings of self-doubt. She needed to find some way to step out of her depression, to finally let go. Since Metaphor’s death, she had been a recluse, locked away unless she tending to her duties. Perhaps she needed to get out more, to go back to court life to remind herself why she had to keep breathing, keep serving.
Unfortunately, Katniss only made it a few steps away from the lake before she simply could not go any further. She was exhausted. Days upon weeks upon months of no good rest was making her look far worse for wear. Her body collapsed in the sand of the lake, her eyes closing softly as she tried to will herself to sleep. And yet…her mind was still racing, still keeping her from sleep. It wasn’t until she heard the press of hooves in the sand that she allowed her eyes to flicker open, her neck craning to lay eyes on her sovereign. How long had it been since she had seen Isra? Not since the night she sent Metaphor on his journey. The night of the funeral. The night she lost her better half. What would Isra say to her? What was there to really say?
@Isra
