love as thou wilt
The sun is pouring through the oak leaves like rain drops, sending splashes of sunshine trickling across the grass. I watch with amusement as the light dances on my feathers. The sun rarely shines so brightly in the Valley and our trees are nothing like these. I ruffle my wings to cast shadows. The Meadow is everything I had hoped, I think with a satisfied sigh. I glance around ruefully. Well, except for company. Perhaps the playground would have been a better choice for my first adventure. I shake my head, determined to prove mother wrong. Just because she can read minds doesn't mean she's right about everything.
As if I have summoned her, a girl appears suddenly around the breadth of the trunk. Her brown and white coat looks more like mother's than my own dappled grey one. She is beaming, a bright red colt in tow, and her joy is infectious. My grin widens and I scramble to my feet. They look like they are my age.
I am so used to my mother knowing my thoughts nearly as soon as I do that I don't even question my new friend's awareness of my name. I simply accept her knowledge with wide golden eyes. Maybe everyone in the world can read minds except me. I flutter my wings, eagerness humming through my slight form.
“Hi Isle! And Wyck! You're twins, aren't you? That's so lucky. There's only me at home.”
I mean, I do have a brother who is just the same as a colt, but he has to go home sometimes so he can make sure the Chamber's tree is still on fire. He tells me it is a very important job. I am quite proud of him. I bet not everyone has a big brother like mine.
I wag my tail, moving closer to the pair and nudging them gently, impulsively, in turn. First Isle, with her lopsided, friendly smile and then Wyck, with his eyes that talk. His lack of speech doesn't occur to me as any stranger than Isle's use of my name. The world is strange, and I know it young.
“I live in the Valley. We have a wall of fire to keep out bad horses. Where do you guys live? Is your mama nearby, too?”
Words spill out of me unrestrained in the fashion of most curious children. I am almost completely oblivious to the knowledge of involved fathers. I have mother, and though I know that fathers have a bit to do with making babies, my experience is that they don't stick around. That's the job of mothers and big brothers.