#tsrf2015

[novemberseas-blog]

“It is the first day of November and so, today, someone will die.” -Maggie Stiefvater

Of course posted on the second day of December! Sorry about the insane amount of time this took and the lack of riders! My human style *cough* or maybe I just can’t draw people at all *cough* does not fit with this style of horse I drew so I decided to redraw all of the horses in more detail instead of adding the riders!

Ula- @notpuckconnolly​

Vala- @gullwings-and-weddingrings​

Vitani-@applecakesandminttea​

Bud- @alfrette​

Vow-@fromtheseatothesea​

Caddoc-@novemberseas

Cairde-@sea-mad

[rsenak]

Seastar again. Ha was wild and... still wild, just not that much. The best is that no one wanted to catch him first, but after he attacked everything moving on the beach. (Leah’s garndfather and brother went out at night with two of their friends to catch a capall but they weren’t expecting this.) So they ended up somehow taking him home, locked away from everything.

[novemberseas-novemberskies]

The Scorpio Races Festival Creative Challenge #8: Movie Poster

[novemberseas-novemberskies]

Character Challenge #10: Retrospective

Hope

It’s been two weeks since the Races. Two weeks since I almost died. Two weeks since I was handed my winnings, modest but enough. Two weeks since someone dropped my tack off  in the corner of my kitchen where it still sits, bloody and untouched. Two weeks since my house has been completely quiet save for the ticking of the clock on the mantel and the whistling of the kettle on the range. Two weeks since I watched the last piece of Peter disappear into the Scorpio Sea. My leg is still healing slowly but surely after Doctor Halsal pieced together the shreds of skin and muscle and sewed me up quick as you like, barely batting an eyelash. I was the very least of his worries that day and he’s had much practice throughout the years. After the first couple days of friends and acquaintances stopping by to wish me well and occasionally brew me a cup of tea, I’ve mostly been left to myself. I’m almost thankful to have finished second rather than first. I don’t think I could bear it, honestly. Because right now, there is so much to process, so much to consider, that I’m glad not to be hounded at all hours of the day by newspapermen and friends of friends of friends in debt and men who now consider me an eligible and attractive choice because I’ve come into money. No. My life is simple, and it is undisturbed, and it is lonely.

I’ve always liked being alone. Alone is quiet. Alone is safe. Alone is easy. Alone does not ask questions. But I find that I do not like being lonely. Lonely is too quiet. Lonely is isolating. Lonely is uneasy. Lonely is unloved. Without Vala to set a rhythm to my life, I feel lost. Once I’m able to walk again, I limp around the cottage looking for something to cook, something to clean, something, anything to do. I sleep too much and don’t eat enough. I thought that perhaps after the Races, whether I won or I came in dead last, things would change. I thought that perhaps it would make me feel whole again, to accomplish something that Peter had wanted so badly for so long. But with no purpose, I am empty again, drifting like an unmoored boat at the mercy of the tides. Peter is not here to fill my heart and Vala is not here to fill my days. I can feel myself sliding backward into the dark, empty place where I lived for so long after Peter’s death, a place I escaped during my preparation for the Races, if only for a moment. Some days I stand on the cliffs and stare down at the water and I wonder why I didn’t let Vala take me with him into the cold, deep waters. I can’t imagine that it would be much different than this existence. And I am afraid.

One night as I lie in bed trying to coax my racing brain to sleep, I look over at the shadowbox on my nightstand. It’s the one small indulgence I’ve allowed myself to spend my winnings on. Inside is Peter’s service medal, Peter’s picture, and a picture of me and Vala that some reporter or other took at the races. Right there in those three wooden frames is my entire life.

“It’s not enough for our pretty house on the moors,” I murmur to Peter’s picture. “Not enough for fifteen children and even more horses. It’ll never be enough.” I drift to sleep imagining what that life would have been like.

That night I dream of Peter. But it isn’t the idyllic scene of our pretty house and our pretty children and our pretty horses. Instead he leans on a fence bordering a long, open stretch of road, giving me that little half-smile I love so very much. He looks relaxed and well in his old flat cap with his shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbow. I sit astride a leggy bay colt with four white stockings and a big white star on his forehead. Just like Vala. Dismounting, I lead the colt over to Peter, breathless from a hard gallop and beaming. Warmth spreads all the way to the tips of my fingers as I stand in his presence.

“Happy?” he asks, and my whole body sings to hear his voice again.

“So happy,” I say without hesitation, and I know that it’s true.

“That is all I want for you. I just want you to be happy, Gwen.”

“Then come home!” I exclaim. “Come home and we’ll start our lives together in earnest and we’ll both be happy.”

Sighing sadly, he reaches out and cups my cheek in his hand, and I lean into his touch.

“You know I can’t, my love. But I need you to start your life in earnest anyway. I need you to find a way to be happy in this world without me in it. Please.”

“How?” I whisper, afraid that he’ll disappear if I even so much as speak too loudly.

“Maybe your winnings aren’t enough to make our dreams come true, but they’re enough to make your dreams come true.” He strokes my cheekbone with his thumb. “Whatever those dreams are. Work for Fremont or the Kendricks. Or get off this island and start again.Or start your own stable in our yard with just Vala and a broodmare and all the determination you’ve got. Whatever it is you want, do that.”

“But Vala’s gone,” I start to protest, but Peter just leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“There’s a reason you didn’t follow Vala into the water. You know that. It’ll be all right. I promise. Be happy, my beautiful, beautiful wife.”

BANG!

I sit bolt upright, heart pounding and tears in my eyes. I wonder for a moment if I’ve imagined the noise, and lie back down, but then I hear it again. Someone or something is knocking very loudly at my front door. I climb out of bed and cautiously creep toward the door. I momentarily look around for something to use as a weapon, but unless I’m going to threaten whatever it is with a broom, I’m out of luck. Taking a deep breath and gathering my courage, I reach forward and throw open the door.

For a long moment I’m certain that I must still be dreaming. Because standing there on my doorstep, mane woven with seaweed and coat frosted silver with sea salt, is Vala. I stand there staring at him and he calmly surveys me with those fierce golden eyes, impatient. I reach out, slowly, carefully, and rest my fingertips on his muzzle. He breathes out gently, and pushes his nose into my hand. And then I’m laughing and crying all at once and Vala is whickering softly as if to ask, “What’s all this fuss about then?”

As I walk him to the stable, I feel like dancing. If it wasn’t for my injured leg, I think I just might. In a moment, everything has changed. I don’t know how long Vala will be with me. It would be cruel to presume that he will always be mine after I’ve allowed him to taste the sea again. One day, when life has given me more reasons to look forward to the sun rising each day, Vala will go home to stay. But for now he is the hope that I need to keep fighting. Somewhere deep in my heart I know that Peter has sent him back to me, whispering to Vala through the waves that they both love so dearly that I needed him. So he returned to me. Now I will live for Peter. And I will live for Vala. And, most importantly of all, I will live for myself. It’s high time I allowed myself that gift, and Vala has given it to me.

[thescorpioracesfestival]

Hey Hi! I hope I'll have the time to finish some challenges tomorrow! Last week has been so hectic. For the third place bonus, what should I enter in the widget? :D If I don't manage to complete my story before tomorrow, I'll try to complete it the upcoming week anyway. Thank you so much for hosting this event! It was amazing!

Hullo! Aw, my pleasure! It’s such a busy time of year, so I’m always impressed at the festival’s turnout! I’ll definitely be on the lookout for the rest of your story!!! :)

I forgot I put a space for a code word in there. Just click on the Third Place Bonus entry and put your capall’s name. (@sea-mad, @gullwings-and-weddingrings, if you haven’t claimed your bonus entries yet, go ahead and do the same for your respective entries, if you haven’t already!)

[rsenak]

Character Challange #10

They would go back to their “normal” life, no changes. Working and riding as if nothing happened on the first day of November. (And I haven’t done that thing yet with the history of the horse. In short, Leah’s grandfather accidentally caught him two years ago and she decided to keep him.)

I came into the mood of writing so I may try to do more with the backstories if I can stay awake. This is the power of the night. Ideas..!~

[thescorpioracesfestival]

REMEMBER TO ENTER YOUR SCORPIO RACES FESTIVAL CHALLENGES IN THE GIVEAWAY WIDGET! :)

You have until the end of November 22 to do so. Enter your information in the Rafflecopter widget here. It was wonderful racing with you! You’re all winners, as far as I’m concerned! :)

[novemberseas-novemberskies]

“I think every now and then about Sean’s thumb pressed against my wrist and daydream about him touching me again. But mostly I think about the way he looks at me – with respect – and I think that’s probably worth more than anything.”

-Maggie Steifvater, The Scorpio Races