forever young, i want to be forever young
Potion was doing, what Potion did best- entertaining herself. Today that consisted of splashing in the shallows, laughing as the salty water soaked her legs and barrel. The water was crisp, yet the bite of winter had been stolen from it with the merging of seasons to Spring. Her pale coat was darkened to hues of sand and wheat from the damp, and her violet tail hung limp in shades of indigo from violet.
Now it's not to say that every once in a while she wouldn't find company in her siblings, or her aunts, uncles, and the like. She had Kirke for instance, her winged sister, the one whom always seemed just a little too poised in her presence- as if something was amiss.
There was her young Aunt Kohl, her Grandmother Killgore both of which were not opposed to spend hours chattering, grooming her mane and weaving wildflowers through her hair. Though often Grandmother would speak nonsense and she and Kohl would simply nod, or 'mhm' in return, though they knew nothing of which she spoke. Yes she had others here in the Cove, it's just that they all seemed to have some job to do, somewhere important to be. So, the young buckskin colored filly was left to occupy herself, which she did with a smile.
Come, the familiar voice beckons her.
Father, she thinks twisting her head and turning her ears towards the voice.
She had learned from a young age that when Father said to come, you came, you did not hesitate or dilly-dally. It was just something that was expected, something she did without a thought or second guess. That was life in the Cove but it always panned out- life had been good and Father had too.
With a slosh of briny water she emerges from the shallows, tossing her head and giving a whinny in a signal of 'Good-bye' to the gentle waves, a 'see -you-later' sort of nod that she did not know it could not comprehend. A shake of leg and body sends tiny droplets of water spraying the sand though she would not completely dry, she just knew she must be clean and presentable when she arrived. Perhaps she would run into Capture on the way, the girl had a funny sort of Magic with water.
The gathering is small but growing. A grouping of her family, her kin, some she knew and some who were new to this life. Her violet locks drape across her face as she dips her head in to speak to the lavender stallion, words pressing into her paint-dipped earlobes and tickling the tiny hairs within.
'We're going to play a game Potion.... You will return Carys to the state of childhood, and your siblings will take it from their my love.'
Fathers words resonate like a spell within her mind, coaxing what they would from her will and her sense of right and wrong. Of that she had little, or to say..she had her own sense of the words, of morals. Kirin had seen to that when she was very young still, before she had made herself grow and change.
His maw parts in a winning smile as she pulls her tawny head away, a simple nod in understanding. Why shouldn't she do as Father asked? Why would she question this?
She wouldn't because it is all she knows, she doesn't because she sees no reason to. Potion only nods, accepting her task for what it is. She stands patiently beside Kirin, waiting as he speaks the words out loud to the others, the rules and ways of the game. When he is finished, when he waves her forward with his free wing she fixes a smile on the broken creature.
A woman with wings, once bright and beautiful, a woman she knew as her sister's Dam. Carys, the name plays softly on her thoughts. She steps forward, coaxed by her Father and her duties. "Farewell Carys." She says brightly, too brightly for such a situation, the woman's shape already caving. Her body tugging, folding inward and reverting back to a previous state. A process of contorted proportions and blinding light, a reverberating feeling that could raise the hair on the back of one's neck. One of youth, wings still mangled because Potion could not repair that sort of damage. An age that would be 'fair' Father said, an age to match the grouping of children that would finish his game.
When it was done, she looked back at Kirin with a grin, pleased with herself and hoping he too was pleased with her work.
Now it's not to say that every once in a while she wouldn't find company in her siblings, or her aunts, uncles, and the like. She had Kirke for instance, her winged sister, the one whom always seemed just a little too poised in her presence- as if something was amiss.
There was her young Aunt Kohl, her Grandmother Killgore both of which were not opposed to spend hours chattering, grooming her mane and weaving wildflowers through her hair. Though often Grandmother would speak nonsense and she and Kohl would simply nod, or 'mhm' in return, though they knew nothing of which she spoke. Yes she had others here in the Cove, it's just that they all seemed to have some job to do, somewhere important to be. So, the young buckskin colored filly was left to occupy herself, which she did with a smile.
Come, the familiar voice beckons her.
Father, she thinks twisting her head and turning her ears towards the voice.
She had learned from a young age that when Father said to come, you came, you did not hesitate or dilly-dally. It was just something that was expected, something she did without a thought or second guess. That was life in the Cove but it always panned out- life had been good and Father had too.
With a slosh of briny water she emerges from the shallows, tossing her head and giving a whinny in a signal of 'Good-bye' to the gentle waves, a 'see -you-later' sort of nod that she did not know it could not comprehend. A shake of leg and body sends tiny droplets of water spraying the sand though she would not completely dry, she just knew she must be clean and presentable when she arrived. Perhaps she would run into Capture on the way, the girl had a funny sort of Magic with water.
The gathering is small but growing. A grouping of her family, her kin, some she knew and some who were new to this life. Her violet locks drape across her face as she dips her head in to speak to the lavender stallion, words pressing into her paint-dipped earlobes and tickling the tiny hairs within.
'We're going to play a game Potion.... You will return Carys to the state of childhood, and your siblings will take it from their my love.'
Fathers words resonate like a spell within her mind, coaxing what they would from her will and her sense of right and wrong. Of that she had little, or to say..she had her own sense of the words, of morals. Kirin had seen to that when she was very young still, before she had made herself grow and change.
His maw parts in a winning smile as she pulls her tawny head away, a simple nod in understanding. Why shouldn't she do as Father asked? Why would she question this?
She wouldn't because it is all she knows, she doesn't because she sees no reason to. Potion only nods, accepting her task for what it is. She stands patiently beside Kirin, waiting as he speaks the words out loud to the others, the rules and ways of the game. When he is finished, when he waves her forward with his free wing she fixes a smile on the broken creature.
A woman with wings, once bright and beautiful, a woman she knew as her sister's Dam. Carys, the name plays softly on her thoughts. She steps forward, coaxed by her Father and her duties. "Farewell Carys." She says brightly, too brightly for such a situation, the woman's shape already caving. Her body tugging, folding inward and reverting back to a previous state. A process of contorted proportions and blinding light, a reverberating feeling that could raise the hair on the back of one's neck. One of youth, wings still mangled because Potion could not repair that sort of damage. An age that would be 'fair' Father said, an age to match the grouping of children that would finish his game.
When it was done, she looked back at Kirin with a grin, pleased with herself and hoping he too was pleased with her work.
Potion
Kirin x Nicia
