03-07-2018, 10:08 PM
| She is a forgotten tale—a name that was lost from the memories of friends and the hearts of family. Her existence disappeared into the pages of history, lost in the darkness just like so many others that came before her. The ancient stories of them have either been forgotten or become legends and myths. But it is within the darkness she has found her strength. Never will she be lost. It is in the hour of the wolf that she returns to a familiar, yet forgotten home. A home that has been transformed since she has been away. However, she finds herself in the familiar pathways of a forest she had once called home when she left behind the life of a kingdom-dweller—a part of her past she does not consider to be her story at all. The black mare follows the familiar pathway of the forest. Carefully she moves across the wintry-scape. Each step taken gives the slight crunch sound of freshly fallen snow. It has hardly hardened, meaning that winter has just arrived. It is a new season; a new season for her as well. She has returned. To what she has returned to, she does not yet know. An unfamiliar path lies ahead of her, but she takes the journey without question. Nothing has ever stopped her before. Even if the end of the path leads her towards death she would still take it. So she does. The shadow-dweller continues down the path she found herself choosing on her journey tonight. Her steps are considerate, determined to discover these new lands. She doesn’t know why she has returned to a place she thought she would ever come back to. Then again, does anyone ever know where they are going? Suddenly, there is a glowing light far ahead of her—the horn of a boy, yet she does not know this yet. Nightbreak stops for a moment, hiding within what shadows remain around her. She is concealed almost perfectly by the color of her black stained skin and the light of the night (the forest canopy aids in her shadows). The mare considers the situation ahead of her, black with golden streaks, calculating her next move. By the glow of the horn, she can see little, nevertheless it was enough for her to anticipate what was ahead of her. There beyond the path was three—two shadows and a beacon of light. A sense of curiosity fills her though. The way they move the shadows around them, conceal and entangle themselves with the darkness. She cannot help her curiosity now. Unconsciously, she steps towards them, drawing further into the light of the moon that slipped through the canopy of trees. She is a beacon of light in the darkness now. Yet, she has always been a light within the darkness. The mare moves closer towards them, unaware of spoken words already. She conceals herself as she moves closer, emotions hidden beneath a shadowy gaze and locked away. Nightbreak comes to a halt with the three others—though she is curious, she keeps herself on edge just in case. “The night brings many out,” she says softly, a hint of humor touched her words. |
