“When a flower is damaged it needs love and attention to regrow. With enough patience and care to even the smallest of sprouts, you will be rewarded with a beautiful rose come spring.” These were the words that Fiorella’s mother spoke to her so many moons ago now when she was a young filly playing in her mother’s garden. She never truly understood what her mother meant back then. Even as a child her patience was never her strong suit and never fully grasped the metaphor her mother was trying to teach her. Alas, despite being a full-blown adult patience still was not her strong suit. Fiorella understood what her friends and healer tried to drive into her head time and time again. She had been told that her path to physical recovery from her birthing injury to regain full independence was a long agonizing road ahead of her. It would be months - if not years - before she would be able to normalize herself back into everyday society.
However, the concern that plagued her right now was an arguably more important recovery plan: dealing with her mental health.
It had been less than half a year since she had been rescued from Maral’s control under his iron hoof. Her emotions swirled in a large writhing black pit of tar in her chest at all times. Whenever she felt that she was finally regaining her footing and getting her head above the emotional rapids it was as if someone came and placed more weights on her hooves to drag her down. Every day seemed to bring a new nightmare and a new emotion to had to the pile. Pain, shame, fear, emptiness, hopelessness, and anger.
Oh, she held such anger. Anger at her family for abandoning her, anger at Maral for the countless abuses he put her through, anger at her limitations in her physical abilities, but most of all anger at the loss of the lives of her unborn child that were stolen from her. Such seething passionate rage burned deep within her veins and drove her to keep pushing forward through each day. She would live and continue on for them. She would live the lives that they never got to have.
Eventually, she would have revenge for the two precious lives stolen far too early from this world.
But if she was to get her revenge, she would have to mentally prepare herself for the long road ahead and vanquish these demons that still plagued her. Thus, this is what lead her to sit at this particular lake on this sunny day.
Yoga and meditation.
Or at least...an attempt at yoga and meditation.
“Breathe in,” She muttered under her breath as she stretched out her front legs in front of her and craned her neck back to the sky. It was an odd pose to find a Soquili in but one her Kirin healing instructor had sent her home with to practice to loosen up her back muscles.
Within a matter of a few seconds, her body began to shake as she struggled to keep up the pose. Her hips were screaming at her, her legs struggled to keep the weight of her entire body upright, and her breathing felt like someone was taking a hot poker to her lungs. By the gods above, who in their right mind puts themselves through this for fun!?
Despite her body making a very painful protest, she held strong. Her face twisted up into a painful wince as she struggled to force herself to keep up with her mental timer. “B-Breathe out…”
Uta
