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She knew she was different from the moment she was born into this eerily silent world. She could tell because of the looks that her mother and father gave her. The way the rest of the herd treated her. Like she was some broken little thing to be looked after. But she learned to cope and get by on her own. Who needed to hear the song of birds or the babbling of a brook? It’s not like she could miss what she never had, anyway.

As she grew older, she saw the other fillies and colts pairing off or watched as young mares and stallions took off into the east or west together. But never her. No, she was left alone. There was no courtship display for her, no interest. Not in a broken little thing. A bitter jealousy grew in her heart and took root. She knew her attempts at communication were painful for others, could tell by the way thing winced or their ears twitched. So eventually, she stopped trying. She withdrew into herself further and further with each phase of the moon.

Until one night.

The moon hid its face and the stars shone brightly. There was a bite to the cold air, an unseasonal chill for so early in the fall. She was by herself, as always, when he came to her. His eyes shone red and his breath was a dark cloud of mist. Darkness stained his hooves and it seemed as though the very air around him fled at his approach. But she wasn’t afraid. She watched him come with interest, a stranger so mysterious.

And she heard him. For the first time in her life, she could hear the words he was saying to her and it was intoxicating. It took almost no coaxing--she was his.

She followed him into his Dark Forest and joined his harem. And here, too, she learned the call of birds and the rustling of leaves. She learned her name, too.

Banshee.

She was devoted entirely to him, her Bloody Bachelor. And she was terribly jealous, too. Screams would tear from her throat when the other mares dared to take his attention away from her. For a time, she was something like happy and content with her life, living in the darkness and feasting on shadows.

Until she saw him.

He was beautiful and strong, with a long dark mane and tail. His eyes were bright and full of fire. Banshee felt something twist in her chest when she first laid eyes on him, so close to His Dark Forest. She was drawn to him and she went to him, many times. But each time he would give chase, she would lose her nerve and flee back to the forest. Back to Him.

It was during one such chase that her world fell apart. He stumbled in a mudslide while chasing her and she watched as his fire faded. She screamed then. She wailed. She lamented the torturous betrayal of her life.

She tried to go back to her Bloody Bachelor, to find some sort of comfort. But he would not have her. He turned her away, beat her bloody for letting her eyes and heart wander. He forced her to leave.

But where would she go?

She found herself wandering back to the herd where the stallion of fire came from. She knew he was not there, never would be again, but where else could she go?

Slowly, she realized her world was becoming quiet again. Terror seized her mind and she latched onto an idea. If she could bring Him an offering, maybe he would take her back in--she could be His again. And so she set her sights on the weakest mare of this small herd. She seized onto her sorrow, her misery, her grief, and she fed it. Let it grow like a cancer. And when Banshee thought she was ready, she brought her to the edge of the Dark Forest. She called for Him to come see her gift. Every night for a full changing of the moon, she brought her gift to the Forest.

But He never came.

Finally, defeat dragged her down. She had lost His favor. Forever.

She brought the mare back to her herd and released her from the spell of loss. She stayed with the herd, because where else would a broken little thing go?

Though her world was silent again, she had learned the art of reading lips. If she paid close attention, she could tell what someone was thinking before they even gave it voice. And when they did speak, she knew what they said. Even though she missed the song of birds and the babbling of brooks, she learned to get by.

And slowly, so achingly slow,, she began to call this herd her home. The others still kept a distance, but the length wasn’t so far anymore. And the stallion, the pale horse, was kind to her. He called her by the name she had been given so, so long ago in her past life. Aisling. She remembered it now. Remembered the shapes her parents’ mouths made when they called for her. And it was almost like hearing again, seeing him saying her name.

The world may be a song she couldn’t hear, but seeing was believing.

Description
She knew she was different from the moment she was born into this eerily silent world. She could tell because of the looks that her mother and father gave her. The way the rest of the herd treated her. Like she was some broken little thing to be looked after. But she learned to cope and get by on her own. Who needed to hear the song of birds or the babbling of a brook? It’s not like she could miss what she never had, anyway.

As she grew older, she saw the other fillies and colts pairing off or watched as young mares and stallions took off into the east or west together. But never her. No, she was left alone. There was no courtship display for her, no interest. Not in a broken little thing. A bitter jealousy grew in her heart and took root. She knew her attempts at communication were painful for others, could tell by the way thing winced or their ears twitched. So eventually, she stopped trying. She withdrew into herself further and further with each phase of the moon.

Until one night.

The moon hid its face and the stars shone brightly. There was a bite to the cold air, an unseasonal chill for so early in the fall. She was by herself, as always, when he came to her. His eyes shone red and his breath was a dark cloud of mist. Darkness stained his hooves and it seemed as though the very air around him fled at his approach. But she wasn’t afraid. She watched him come with interest, a stranger so mysterious.

And she heard him. For the first time in her life, she could hear the words he was saying to her and it was intoxicating. It took almost no coaxing--she was his.

She followed him into his Dark Forest and joined his harem. And here, too, she learned the call of birds and the rustling of leaves. She learned her name, too.

Banshee.

She was devoted entirely to him, her Bloody Bachelor. And she was terribly jealous, too. Screams would tear from her throat when the other mares dared to take his attention away from her. For a time, she was something like happy and content with her life, living in the darkness and feasting on shadows.

Until she saw him.

He was beautiful and strong, with a long dark mane and tail. His eyes were bright and full of fire. Banshee felt something twist in her chest when she first laid eyes on him, so close to His Dark Forest. She was drawn to him and she went to him, many times. But each time he would give chase, she would lose her nerve and flee back to the forest. Back to Him.

It was during one such chase that her world fell apart. He stumbled in a mudslide while chasing her and she watched as his fire faded. She screamed then. She wailed. She lamented the torturous betrayal of her life.

She tried to go back to her Bloody Bachelor, to find some sort of comfort. But he would not have her. He turned her away, beat her bloody for letting her eyes and heart wander. He forced her to leave.

But where would she go?

She found herself wandering back to the herd where the stallion of fire came from. She knew he was not there, never would be again, but where else could she go?

Slowly, she realized her world was becoming quiet again. Terror seized her mind and she latched onto an idea. If she could bring Him an offering, maybe he would take her back in--she could be His again. And so she set her sights on the weakest mare of this small herd. She seized onto her sorrow, her misery, her grief, and she fed it. Let it grow like a cancer. And when Banshee thought she was ready, she brought her to the edge of the Dark Forest. She called for Him to come see her gift. Every night for a full changing of the moon, she brought her gift to the Forest.

But He never came.

Finally, defeat dragged her down. She had lost His favor. Forever.

She brought the mare back to her herd and released her from the spell of loss. She stayed with the herd, because where else would a broken little thing go?

Though her world was silent again, she had learned the art of reading lips. If she paid close attention, she could tell what someone was thinking before they even gave it voice. And when they did speak, she knew what they said. Even though she missed the song of birds and the babbling of brooks, she learned to get by.

And slowly, so achingly slow,, she began to call this herd her home. The others still kept a distance, but the length wasn’t so far anymore. And the stallion, the pale horse, was kind to her. He called her by the name she had been given so, so long ago in her past life. Aisling. She remembered it now. Remembered the shapes her parents’ mouths made when they called for her. And it was almost like hearing again, seeing him saying her name.

The world may be a song she couldn’t hear, but seeing was believing.