Three Twisted Knots

It was a good morning, as good as it could be, or it started out to be. Rachel and I had been talking, dancing around a few things, which I’ll write about later. But I need to get this down, because it’s important.

See, the thing is, I didn’t love Paasheeluu, not as much as I should have. And I was cross with her so often. And I called her terrible names, and she called me terrible names, and I just really didn’t understand the bond she had with Aoibheann and Nathan. In fact, I was jealous of it, and I treated her poorly because she was old, and irritating, and yeah, sometimes she was ridiculous. The last time I saw her, we’d just made up after a huge meltdown. We both said things we didn’t mean. I can’t think how I’d feel now if we hadn’t had that final conversation. My last memory of her is her relaxing with her head in my lap as I brushed her coat. I hope she felt happy. I hope I gave her something good. And I’m sorry, so sorry, that she’s gone now and I’ll never be able to listen to her bitch and moan and then turn around and be steadfast and a genius and amazing.

The bug queen brought Paasheeluu’s body to us. Poor Rachel is afraid of bugs, I think, especially giant ones that look like they could take your head off with a pincer. But the queen and two of her — assistants, I guess, brought the body back to us because they knew we frowned on consuming the dead.

Rachel helped put the body into a basket. We covered her with a blanket, and then Rachel took the body back inside the cavern. I hope we’ll be able to arrange a memorial for her, somehow, as strange as that might seem here in Fae Weirdland. There was a gravity to it, the way the queen respected our customs even though she did not understand them. I was able to communicate with them, just briefly, and learned that while they could understand our language, they speak mostly with their minds. I felt horrified then, because the things people say about them must seem so disturbing; the revulsion must be overwhelming. It makes me sad, to think I’ve been part of revulsion like that. I will be kinder in the future.

Once the body had been put away, new people arrived, one of whom was able to communicate with the bugs much more easily than I was, but I will write about that in a separate entry. This one is all for Paasheelu, because I don’t think I will ever meet anyone like her again. She was an amazing mare who led an extraordinary life. I only wish we knew how she died.