05-03-2017, 06:19 PM
The weather was changing. There was sharpness to the breeze, a brisk foreshadowing of the deeper chill to come. Today though, the sun was high, and made itself known. The sunlight wrapped its golden hands around her, swaddling her in blinding flaxen light and she gave herself to it, to this effulgence of poetic fire. Her filly’s body undulated over the earth, jogging and walking and leaping over the ground to a rhythm that thrummed in her skull and spilled outward from her skin in dizzying waves of soundless emotion. Her features were delicate things, carved of fragile stone and wrapped in thin silks and when she turned them – just so – to catch in full force the smouldering touch of the sun they were flawless.
It was not clear how Alayaya had found herself here, exactly. Maybe she was drawn, the way children inexplicably are, to the presence of other children. Maybe it was just fortune, or coincidence, whichever you believe in. She was decidedly not concerned about the how, though, clearly. At any rate, she wasn’t looking back. She entered the Playground like a familiar, unimpressive haunt, and did not feel any more out of place than she would have looked to an adult overseer or a stranger – just another foal among many.
She paused as she entered, appraising the other little bodies in various forms of play, pretend or… boredom. The pause interrupted the previous ceaseless energy so abruptly it was almost unnatural. Every beat of stillness increased the unnaturalness. There was a focused energy just barely contained by the boundaries of her skin and it seemed to quiver just out of physical sight, just out of hearing. She spotted the mismatched colts quickly – they were only about forty feet from where she had intruded into the Playground – and she was instantly engaged. There was a little flip of her tail, as though making some decision, and she turned and slid back into easy fluid movement to close the distance between her and them.
They were an interesting tableau – the black-legged buckskin with his coat of aloofness like a shield (or maybe like a leather jacket) and the absurdly pink boy who clearly didn’t appreciate how adorable he looked when he was grumpy, which was probably part of the problem. The mood was not exactly light. The spiky, bristling unhappiness around these two was almost palpable. Alayaya could not help but radiate the kind of careless happiness that only hearty well-loved children of a certain age acquire. The complete, unchallenged confidence and the optimism of unbroken promises were practically etched in the metallic sheen of her pale flaxen figure. And yet. There was something exaggerated in it as well, a little too extravagant, a little too coy.
She moved toward them pointedly, without giddy expectation, and without hesitation about the bubble of clear disinvitation the two of them were each blowing.
She eyed Seethe as she drew level with the tree they stood beneath. If she could have smirked she would have. As it was, she tipped her head ‘just so’ as she looked him over, as if to say “Are you serious?”
She looked between the two of them, raising her eyebrows The wide blue eyes held barely contained laughter, curiosity, and just a hint of appraisal. “Somebody drown your puppies?” she wondered aloud.
It was not clear how Alayaya had found herself here, exactly. Maybe she was drawn, the way children inexplicably are, to the presence of other children. Maybe it was just fortune, or coincidence, whichever you believe in. She was decidedly not concerned about the how, though, clearly. At any rate, she wasn’t looking back. She entered the Playground like a familiar, unimpressive haunt, and did not feel any more out of place than she would have looked to an adult overseer or a stranger – just another foal among many.
She paused as she entered, appraising the other little bodies in various forms of play, pretend or… boredom. The pause interrupted the previous ceaseless energy so abruptly it was almost unnatural. Every beat of stillness increased the unnaturalness. There was a focused energy just barely contained by the boundaries of her skin and it seemed to quiver just out of physical sight, just out of hearing. She spotted the mismatched colts quickly – they were only about forty feet from where she had intruded into the Playground – and she was instantly engaged. There was a little flip of her tail, as though making some decision, and she turned and slid back into easy fluid movement to close the distance between her and them.
They were an interesting tableau – the black-legged buckskin with his coat of aloofness like a shield (or maybe like a leather jacket) and the absurdly pink boy who clearly didn’t appreciate how adorable he looked when he was grumpy, which was probably part of the problem. The mood was not exactly light. The spiky, bristling unhappiness around these two was almost palpable. Alayaya could not help but radiate the kind of careless happiness that only hearty well-loved children of a certain age acquire. The complete, unchallenged confidence and the optimism of unbroken promises were practically etched in the metallic sheen of her pale flaxen figure. And yet. There was something exaggerated in it as well, a little too extravagant, a little too coy.
She moved toward them pointedly, without giddy expectation, and without hesitation about the bubble of clear disinvitation the two of them were each blowing.
She eyed Seethe as she drew level with the tree they stood beneath. If she could have smirked she would have. As it was, she tipped her head ‘just so’ as she looked him over, as if to say “Are you serious?”
She looked between the two of them, raising her eyebrows The wide blue eyes held barely contained laughter, curiosity, and just a hint of appraisal. “Somebody drown your puppies?” she wondered aloud.
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