The Portal
Zahra & Ilham
It was pride that turned angels into devils
Through the dull roar of rain tempted a word against her conscious - a breath of unreciprocated recognition to skew her staunch mind - and momentarily startled from their sour resolve, those ears wavered forward with certain surprise. Their visible intrigue was fleeting, mind you, each sliding again backwards as the stranger moved in turn to stand; frigid gaze examined the quivering, trembling profile of his poorly body - he perched downwind with all of the ungainly grace of a newborn - yet she failed to find the connection and snorted briskly, a crude spray of spittle, through the wall of air between.
The skin draped along each bony ridge was slathered in mud to obscure view of tinge; swan-like wings, pale perhaps, wilted without vigour at each side, and the palest points elsewhere across the famished-looking frame, were well dulled by this, the filthy brown murk of his bed - his grave… And with a snails haste, he worked laboriously to right himself, only adding to the rising irritation that haloed the waiting girl's presence.
As seconds bled by, so did Zahra’s cool interest begin to wane; her chin shifted east and her attention fell towards the tide of shadow as it mulled ever further from their spot. It was hunting again, lured by the sweet hum of another enchanted soul. Another victim. So distracted did she become - so distant were her thoughts - that the breathy, broken gesture of his humble words, their intention, was not wholly absorbed. With a cutting eye and ears still pulled down across wet mane, she beheld the winged creature in front. "You?" she almost snarled, face contorting with overplayed incredulity.
It was her security - her sanctuary.
For a moment, the glowing scarlet face of the previous stallion emerged to rest above those weak, fetid shoulders before her; he, had been fair game, fit and gullible, yet as his image dissolved and revealed again the forlorn impression of this other, her unwarranted anger faltered. “No..." she sighed simply, resignedly, crest bowing easily beneath that old familiar blanket of despair. "I'm sorry." Those expressive ears sagged then, tiredly from their nest.
