#MenageMonday, week 41


The grass had gone to seed, and I felt the blades smacking against my legs as I ran. This is why I’d been born, this was my fate. Not merely to run, but to run faster than any of my kind had ever run. Not merely to run for the joy of it, though who would not feel joy in such an act, but to run fast enough that even the most vigilant sentinels would not know I’d passed by. Ever since the day of my birth, I’d been told about the Dark Queen who had ruled over the land and how it was my destiny to carry the one who would end her reign. Allora sat astride me now, guiding me with her thoughts as we approached the castle. We’d been born the same day, our first meals were the same mix of our mothers’ milk, and a dozen generations had been born and died just to bring us to this moment. The land was a blur as I prepared for my leap over the gates. Allora raised her bow and aimed. We’d practiced a thousand days for this. We were playing for keeps. I leapt. The arrow flew.


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