Unbound, unkempt, uncertain [Anyone]

[Insignificance]

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-- Wandering was one thing that the two mares had in common. It seems as if Insignificance had not been so much running - in the literal sense of the word - from someone or something but merely from herself and her memories. While time plundered on unrelenting in its fierce hold upon her she sought to remember and forget everything. Joy waxing and waning as time passes and the world turns slowly.  And then there had been nothing but darkness and night for as long as she could remember. No longer a firefly though, she clung to the folds of darkness drawing it around her like a traveler would a familiar worn and friendly cloak and she settled into her routine of being a nightwalker.  Still night did not last forever, she would find herself still out staring at the stars as if they held all the answers in the world until the late hours of the night met and greeted the early hours of the morning. There were even days when she would find herself in the midst of a glorious sunrise that should have brought her to her knees weeping of the beauty. But that was childish, a childish lust of beauty and grace that did not belong to her. No, Insignificance was not a beauty and would never be. Too harsh of lines and angles skewed the curves of her body and too often a trip and a stumble would land her looking rather like the child she was not anymore. Soon there is light as the first rays of the sun finger the waters never stilling surface. But this morning, for the first morning in a long time, I do not draw away from the light. I stay, submerged to my knees in the changing river water eyes half-closed and head flung to the sky as if in prayer to forces I don't believe in. I hear her before I see her, the steady beating of hooves and heart and wind through flared nostrils. A pang of panic ricochets through my body and my eyes fly open. I had not expected company (fool, you fool, you fool.) but there is something about the heedful footfall of the other that eases my tense muscles back into relaxation.  Familiar is the first thing I think of as the other mare gingerly steps into the same river that I have perched myself in.  She is young - and there´s the mark of dreamers on her brow. I shrug the thought away - impossible. I am quite certain that I have never seen this childmare before. (too many years in hiding)  There is something endearing about her gaunt appearance, and unknowingly my mouth curls upwards in a tentative mirroring of her own fleeting smile. It´s an unfamiliar gesture, something that makes me uneasy - I have never been the cheerful type. I don´t know either... I think - something about the weather maybe - I deadpan  - but my words come out softer than I had expected. There is something about her that puts my mind at ease - though I cannot really point out what. Kagerus - the name rings no bells in my wrecked memory, and why should it? I can´t even seem to remember what I´m doing standing in this river. My name is Insignificance... and I am lost. I admit, perhaps more to myself than to her. And that´s that - two lost souls standing in the midst of a river trying to remember the act of socializing. I have a prickling sensation that I am failing miserably at this.  "Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for." insignificance