the ground did fold, and eat us both; any

[Eld]

Just throw it back, for one more night On a starlit and moon-struck night. My mother once said to me, I was a spit of sunshine and a large portion of rain. I was never certain as to what she meant, but as I trod through days, seasons and even hours, I was starting to see what she meant. I wasn't the most of graceful of girls. I had a golden heart, somewhere in this vast vessel of mine. A heart that was good, and yet inside of me the barbs of loneliness did capture it. The cutting ice of doubt, of self-loathing. I'd spent the past few days wandering the woods, finding quaint little nodules of beauty, hidden, concealed beneath the rough bark of trees. Perhaps that was what my mother meant, but I'll never know. My sire had been adamant I leave as soon as I was of age -- keeping a place that would potentially house a worthy mare, after all. I was as useless then as a broken rock. But here, here I could take that broken rock and start piling it above more. building some sort of thing, some sort of worth. 'Well, living is always a good start to the day.' I say, fluttering my ears at Texas's words. His wry little grin does not go unnoticed, it becomes quite infectious and my velvety lips turn upward. 'Everything can always be worse. You could lose a leg, an eye... Maybe even your tongue. I can't really see Texas without his tongue now, can you?' I laugh, a sweet little sound, seems so foreign coming from one as graceless and voluminous as I. But looks were always deceiving, I judged this by the silver bay man before me. I took a step forward, tail swishing by my hocks. He mentions the Amazons. I swallow a breath and shake my head. 'Large place. Lots of bugs, uncooperative vines. Not for me.' I shake my head, emphasising the distaste. 'I suppose if you're into fighting off killer flowers and heaven knows what else, then it could be considered... homely? Ah, perhaps that's not the right word. The Falls, this is homely. Quaint little place. The Jungle? It just...' I tighten my lips then, as ever rolling too much onward. I lower my head a little, 'Not for me.' I lift my green gaze back to Texas. finding a little bit of awkwardness sliding over my skin like fly bites. 'You knew how to untangle those awkward webs of vines and trees. What do you think of the Jungle?' The ground did fold and eat us both But all my love, I did devote. - resident of the falls -