09-01-2017, 07:26 AM
It’s Rhysand that I find, and I reach forward to jovially bump his shoulder in greeting. He doesn’t say anything, but the way that he follows closely behind me through the woods is obviously a sign that he is ready to play. We have spent most of our lives playing in the woods, Lochwood, Rhysand, and I, and while Mother has told us that someday Rhysand will leave with his father, it is easy to forget. It seems we will always have the woods to play in.
We race through the trees, and I barely have to look where I am going. Growing up here, I know the place as well as I know the pattern of my twin’s tobiano coat; it is easy enough to avoid the reaching roots and other tripping hazards.
A large granite boulder looms ahead of us soon enough, glinting in the late afternoon sun that reaches through the fiery canopy overhead.
“Over here!” I shout over my shoulder to Rhysand.
Unlike many of the stones that litter the floor of Sylva, this one is not level with the ground. Its lowest point is level with my head, and I round the stone until I reach it. There, a tree has fallen against it, and the slop is just enough that a young foal can clamber up it. I do so, and gesture to Rhysand to follow.
The top of the rock is rough and pitted with rainfall, and I pick my way up the slope until I have reached the peak of the boulder. There is a sharp drop-off, and it is there that I stand.
From here, twenty feet in the air, the forest of Sylva spreads out below me. This must be what birds feel like, I think as I look out, waiting for my brother to join me. When he does, I gesture with my masked face to the forest floor below, where it is clear that I have labored to pile an even thicker cover of leaves on the ground than usual. It was not an easy task with my equine mouth, I’d found, but a canine jaw can open much wider and paws can toss leaves about easier than hooves.
“Wanna go first?” I ask, meeting his gaze with my blue-grey eyes and an excited smile. “I mean , I did already try it just in case, but this time you can go first.”
We race through the trees, and I barely have to look where I am going. Growing up here, I know the place as well as I know the pattern of my twin’s tobiano coat; it is easy enough to avoid the reaching roots and other tripping hazards.
A large granite boulder looms ahead of us soon enough, glinting in the late afternoon sun that reaches through the fiery canopy overhead.
“Over here!” I shout over my shoulder to Rhysand.
Unlike many of the stones that litter the floor of Sylva, this one is not level with the ground. Its lowest point is level with my head, and I round the stone until I reach it. There, a tree has fallen against it, and the slop is just enough that a young foal can clamber up it. I do so, and gesture to Rhysand to follow.
The top of the rock is rough and pitted with rainfall, and I pick my way up the slope until I have reached the peak of the boulder. There is a sharp drop-off, and it is there that I stand.
From here, twenty feet in the air, the forest of Sylva spreads out below me. This must be what birds feel like, I think as I look out, waiting for my brother to join me. When he does, I gesture with my masked face to the forest floor below, where it is clear that I have labored to pile an even thicker cover of leaves on the ground than usual. It was not an easy task with my equine mouth, I’d found, but a canine jaw can open much wider and paws can toss leaves about easier than hooves.
“Wanna go first?” I ask, meeting his gaze with my blue-grey eyes and an excited smile. “I mean , I did already try it just in case, but this time you can go first.”