10-23-2019, 07:47 PM
"Mother? Motheeeeer!"
A voice as thin as spider silk climbed into the air, seeking what it would not find. Through the trees, the only home he'd ever known, a leggy teal colt stepped uncertainly. There was no path he could see. No indication which way his mother might have gone.
They'd been playing a game. Chase, or hide and seek. She'd never said which, only been gone when he shutb his eyes. And then he'd found her, muttering under her breath (nothing new, she did that often), and looking at her little son with surprise when he appeared. "Found you!" He'd cried with glee, little wings fluttering with satisfaction. She'd nodded, eyes distant and then laughed her high pitched laugh. "Then catch me, little bird. Fly away home."
And she was gone again. Swift, too swift for his little legs to keep up. A flash of blue and pink through the trees until a root reached up to snag him, and the little blue boy came tumbling down. A scraped knee, and no mother in sight to kiss it better.
So he wanders, lost where the trees all seem like monsters, skeletal fingers scratching and pulling at tender young skin. "Mother!" He cried out again, moving through unforgiving terrain until the ragged breath moving through his lungs was no longer the only sound. Rushing, tearing water, it thundered along before him. A little further, and the broad river opened its maw through the brush.
More water than he'd ever seen, a hungry black snake that ran too fast to keep up with. The noise echoed in the boy's narrow ribcage, louder than his heart could ever be. But he was thirsty. So thirsty, after his long walk, and no mother in sight. The river it must be. Tiny little footsteps carried him to the edge. Not too close. Just enough to reach the edge, to drop his head and sip at the cold liquid where it flowed slower.
Where was his mother?
His eyes lingered on the rippling reflection at his feet. Little nose, little mouth, too big eyes with too much fear in them. A puff of mane that flashed and flickered with nervous energy made seen. A lost little boy. And a feather. Not his feather; too blue, too big. Snatched from the water as it passed through his reflection, long pinion held tightly between his new teeth. Mother's feather. It carried a touch of familiar scent, it's color like the sky she loved so well. Was she near?
Poor little thing, he walked the wrong way, couldn't find the path that would take him to her. He followed the river as far as it would go, hoping every knew bend would reveal her. He found nothing but disappointment, and a growing fear. He couldn't walk forever. Didn't know his quest was pointless, that he had siblings who might find him if he'd only hold still!
And then there is no river. There is nothing but sand and whispering wind, and little stones dotting the beach that he has not yet learned to recognize as bones. He cannot walk any further, not the way his legs are shaking, and not any further south. There is no further south, unless he decided to swim. He should have found her by now.
One blue feather, clutched doggedly in his sweet mouth the whole journey. That's all he has. Eyes the color of clear summer skies fill with unbidden tears, but he can't force them back. Not when he is so alone, and so afraid, and doesn't even know where he is. And there's a light. A glare of sun off the moisture in his eyes.
He blinked, hard, fighting down the panic rising in his throat. Not a glare, he sees, but a mare. She has kind eyes and he doesn't mind that she seems so thin, almost transparent. It's alright. Mother wasn't always wholly there either, even if he couldn't quite see through her. But she looks soft enough. Kind enough. There are others, all quiet, not so bright. Not so safe. So he walked to her, and dropped the feather at her feet. It spun and floated to a stop, landing silently in the sand between them. His thread-thin voice, pleading;
"Where's my mother?"
A voice as thin as spider silk climbed into the air, seeking what it would not find. Through the trees, the only home he'd ever known, a leggy teal colt stepped uncertainly. There was no path he could see. No indication which way his mother might have gone.
They'd been playing a game. Chase, or hide and seek. She'd never said which, only been gone when he shutb his eyes. And then he'd found her, muttering under her breath (nothing new, she did that often), and looking at her little son with surprise when he appeared. "Found you!" He'd cried with glee, little wings fluttering with satisfaction. She'd nodded, eyes distant and then laughed her high pitched laugh. "Then catch me, little bird. Fly away home."
And she was gone again. Swift, too swift for his little legs to keep up. A flash of blue and pink through the trees until a root reached up to snag him, and the little blue boy came tumbling down. A scraped knee, and no mother in sight to kiss it better.
So he wanders, lost where the trees all seem like monsters, skeletal fingers scratching and pulling at tender young skin. "Mother!" He cried out again, moving through unforgiving terrain until the ragged breath moving through his lungs was no longer the only sound. Rushing, tearing water, it thundered along before him. A little further, and the broad river opened its maw through the brush.
More water than he'd ever seen, a hungry black snake that ran too fast to keep up with. The noise echoed in the boy's narrow ribcage, louder than his heart could ever be. But he was thirsty. So thirsty, after his long walk, and no mother in sight. The river it must be. Tiny little footsteps carried him to the edge. Not too close. Just enough to reach the edge, to drop his head and sip at the cold liquid where it flowed slower.
Where was his mother?
His eyes lingered on the rippling reflection at his feet. Little nose, little mouth, too big eyes with too much fear in them. A puff of mane that flashed and flickered with nervous energy made seen. A lost little boy. And a feather. Not his feather; too blue, too big. Snatched from the water as it passed through his reflection, long pinion held tightly between his new teeth. Mother's feather. It carried a touch of familiar scent, it's color like the sky she loved so well. Was she near?
Poor little thing, he walked the wrong way, couldn't find the path that would take him to her. He followed the river as far as it would go, hoping every knew bend would reveal her. He found nothing but disappointment, and a growing fear. He couldn't walk forever. Didn't know his quest was pointless, that he had siblings who might find him if he'd only hold still!
And then there is no river. There is nothing but sand and whispering wind, and little stones dotting the beach that he has not yet learned to recognize as bones. He cannot walk any further, not the way his legs are shaking, and not any further south. There is no further south, unless he decided to swim. He should have found her by now.
One blue feather, clutched doggedly in his sweet mouth the whole journey. That's all he has. Eyes the color of clear summer skies fill with unbidden tears, but he can't force them back. Not when he is so alone, and so afraid, and doesn't even know where he is. And there's a light. A glare of sun off the moisture in his eyes.
He blinked, hard, fighting down the panic rising in his throat. Not a glare, he sees, but a mare. She has kind eyes and he doesn't mind that she seems so thin, almost transparent. It's alright. Mother wasn't always wholly there either, even if he couldn't quite see through her. But she looks soft enough. Kind enough. There are others, all quiet, not so bright. Not so safe. So he walked to her, and dropped the feather at her feet. It spun and floated to a stop, landing silently in the sand between them. His thread-thin voice, pleading;
"Where's my mother?"