He had been brought up in a land of smiles and magic. That is all he remembers, watching them, and how they used to stand side by side, his reasonably silent father and his completely silent mother. They had been a simple family, perhaps in more ways then one, and Tommin’s life had been a wonderful combination go imagination and reality. He was a child who wanted knowledge and the fates had gone out of their way to deny him it. He could not ask his mother questions because she could not answer him, and his father’s limited vocabulary and lack of hearing made their conversations short and simple. His father could say his mother’s name, he could say Tommin, and he could say other words like danger, run, hide, and love. But he could not explain to the pale sandy colt why the sky turning from a light summer blue to a dark and resentful night. He could not tell him why the stars twinkled or why their friend the moon was not always there to join them. And nor could he tell the little colt why a rainbow perhaps one of the most beautiful things the little boy had ever seen. He could not explain to Tommin why he and his mother left him. He could not say anything other than goodbye, and with a smile and a touch to the young boy’s pale shoulder they left him. Tommin had stood there mute, in the open in this strange land, for a while, lips pressed firmly together until realization kicked in. His mother and his father had moved on, on from him, and perhaps their time spent together. They had left Tommin to his own fate, although this was no cruel act of abandonment. It was a chance, an opportunity, and when Tommin realizes this, he cannot help but smile, bright and beautiful, lighting up his eyes of glacial blue. Perhaps he would one day touch the stars. The glistened silently above his head, every night, the only source of light when the world was plunged into darkness. Tommin knows they will return again tonight. He wonders about this new land, will there still be butterflies to chase? Will there be deer to find, silent in the trees? Will there be flowers to smell? For now, his new world is silent, at it is bathed in new winter snow. It was no time for someone to be out on their own. But in the comforting hands of the meadow, Tommin stood, resting his sore hooves, he was so very tired from all of his walking. There were others here, Tommin could see them, wandering about in the sunshine of winter. Although he had thought it wise to venture a little further from the large groups. They could be dangerous, and in the poorer months of winter, one could never tell. He breathes out a sigh, lowering his head to the ground and letting his muzzle touch against the cold ground, tiny cupped flutes atop his head, twitching for any sign of a sound.
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COTY
Assailant -- Year 226
QOTY
"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Soliel; just footprints where you've been
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07-05-2019, 02:34 AM
07-07-2019, 08:34 PM
The yearling mind-reader cannot but help to feel so bland amongst the rainbow of Beqanna. It seems as if everywhere she looks, there is a better and brighter creature to outmatch her. She is sullen, miserable, but not defeated. What she does possess, is far greater than those that shine brighter than the pale of her blue roan coat. Soleil has secrets, so many and delicious secrets - little gems she tucks into the back of her mind to whip out whenever she so desires.
All the sweet treasures of a mind reader, yes - they dangle like God’s delectable forbidden fruit, and Soleil the ever malicious Eve. The horses that litter the meadow chitter and chat incoherent babble. The yearling ignores them all with an irate flick of her ear, pale eyes flitting from face to boring face. Even the ones prettier than her are terribly boring. Her gaze alights on a quiet boy, dunskin coat shimmering beneath the winter sun. Soleil shivers against the cool breeze and a new mind to pick through. His pretty blue eyes match the thoughts that pass behind his gaze. The filly smiles. She sidles up to him with a murmured, “Don’t like crowds, huh?” There is nothing but friendliness in her soft gaze, a perfect mask for the information she plucks right from his mouth. She bends to lip at the grass as well, then whispers, “Me neither.” she is still very new to me, sorry D: @[Tommin]
@[soleil] | |
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