Her mother's father gently tilted her head in the right direction. On a snowy branch her lover perched, an arrow notched at the ready. The silver and flint tip caught stray moonlight to twinkle like stars on a cloudless summer night. He was hunting for her kind.
A silent tear trailed down her cheek, followed by others. She wondered that the forest did not echo with the sound of her heart breaking. The pain robbed her limbs of vigor, her ears deaf to the world beyond her sorrow.
But the gentle prod on her upper meridian sent a shock of energy coursing through her limp body, clearing her mind. The clarity of duty made it easy to discard the false promises whispered by her lover, poisoning the roots of love entrenched in her heart.
She slipped away in the shadows with her mother's father. She needed time to regroup and marshal her thoughts. This time, the bastion of the garl will fall for good. She will make sure of it.
Inspired by art by Ashram entitled Hades and Persephone.
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