Without a mother, I had all the time in the world to do whatever I wanted. No one could tell me what to do or where to go, how to behave or be quiet. Bedtime didn’t exist, baths were useless, and so was self-grooming. Maybe I had liked all the things my mother did when she was around, but I loved life now that she was gone.
Take today for example: I decided the den was boring and left, and no one tried to stop me. A few of the other, younger foals had clung like stickers to my sides and tried to follow me out, but none of them made it all the way along the trail - they eventually turned back one-by-one, crying and sobbing that I was the one abandoning them. Those poor, stupid little idiots! What else could I do but pity them?
It was me, after all, that had drawn them in with false projections of warm happiness and promising illusions, though I could hardly be blamed for a talent I'd never learned to control. Ever since I was born I’d known the effect I had on others - could see it in the telltale glint of their eyes when they looked at me for the first time. Nothing happened initially, and then (subtly) a change would overcome them. Their expressions would soften and their noses would reach out to touch me, and ever since I’d been born everyone - everyone I say - had loved me without knowing exactly why.
I would never have to worry about being alone, and that’s why being lonely suited me so very, very well.
“Oof!” Sixteen managed to make me yelp. I’d been slinking in the grass, using my own wings like a fake turtle’s shell over my back to hide, when he came out of nowhere and cracked our skulls together. He fell back and so did I - equal, yet opposite reactions - but I was still shaking the ringing sound out of my ears during his apology. He got up fast for a colt my age.
“Ya, I think I’m okay.” I giggled, looking up at Sixteen while flat on my rump.
I know I shouldn’t do it, whatever ‘it’ is that my body tends to do when company is around, but I really can’t help it. These feelings and this magic inside of me, they’re more than superficial - they are me, just like Sixteen’s glowy parts and also like his leathery parts, which I really like. (My wings are so normal; beautiful, but normal.) Suppressing the way my skin tingles or trying to dam the swelling tide of radiant happiness emanating like an invisible glow from my core would be like… it would be kind of… well it would be like stripping away my personality!
My personality is one that loves to be loved, and if Sixteen doesn’t love me then I might literally die from the pain of it, so I compensate by always leaving my magical charms on when others come around. I don't have a name for it yet, I'll know when I get older maybe, but horses tell me I tend to resemble someone they know, someone they clearly like, and I roll with it. (That's actually the most exciting part - I wonder if this colt will notice my strange resemblance to someone he loves?) Nothing ever gets me down either, and I think that natural happiness inside of me just tends to draw others in, so I shouldn't worry but I do. I have this secret, tiny worry that someday, some horse will see right through me and realize I'm just an ugly, brown little pegasus colt. Lucky for me, so far no one has ever made me try to turn it off.
Why would they? Like I said: everybody really tends to love me.
@[sixteen] OOC: I wanted to make him a pretty profile/HTML and all that but you've been waiting for so long I just said "F it", here's a post!
Take today for example: I decided the den was boring and left, and no one tried to stop me. A few of the other, younger foals had clung like stickers to my sides and tried to follow me out, but none of them made it all the way along the trail - they eventually turned back one-by-one, crying and sobbing that I was the one abandoning them. Those poor, stupid little idiots! What else could I do but pity them?
It was me, after all, that had drawn them in with false projections of warm happiness and promising illusions, though I could hardly be blamed for a talent I'd never learned to control. Ever since I was born I’d known the effect I had on others - could see it in the telltale glint of their eyes when they looked at me for the first time. Nothing happened initially, and then (subtly) a change would overcome them. Their expressions would soften and their noses would reach out to touch me, and ever since I’d been born everyone - everyone I say - had loved me without knowing exactly why.
I would never have to worry about being alone, and that’s why being lonely suited me so very, very well.
“Oof!” Sixteen managed to make me yelp. I’d been slinking in the grass, using my own wings like a fake turtle’s shell over my back to hide, when he came out of nowhere and cracked our skulls together. He fell back and so did I - equal, yet opposite reactions - but I was still shaking the ringing sound out of my ears during his apology. He got up fast for a colt my age.
“Ya, I think I’m okay.” I giggled, looking up at Sixteen while flat on my rump.
I know I shouldn’t do it, whatever ‘it’ is that my body tends to do when company is around, but I really can’t help it. These feelings and this magic inside of me, they’re more than superficial - they are me, just like Sixteen’s glowy parts and also like his leathery parts, which I really like. (My wings are so normal; beautiful, but normal.) Suppressing the way my skin tingles or trying to dam the swelling tide of radiant happiness emanating like an invisible glow from my core would be like… it would be kind of… well it would be like stripping away my personality!
My personality is one that loves to be loved, and if Sixteen doesn’t love me then I might literally die from the pain of it, so I compensate by always leaving my magical charms on when others come around. I don't have a name for it yet, I'll know when I get older maybe, but horses tell me I tend to resemble someone they know, someone they clearly like, and I roll with it. (That's actually the most exciting part - I wonder if this colt will notice my strange resemblance to someone he loves?) Nothing ever gets me down either, and I think that natural happiness inside of me just tends to draw others in, so I shouldn't worry but I do. I have this secret, tiny worry that someday, some horse will see right through me and realize I'm just an ugly, brown little pegasus colt. Lucky for me, so far no one has ever made me try to turn it off.
Why would they? Like I said: everybody really tends to love me.
@[sixteen] OOC: I wanted to make him a pretty profile/HTML and all that but you've been waiting for so long I just said "F it", here's a post!
![[Image: decgetu-410f2b50-f05d-4438-bd4c-5d54e999...4Ft1YXr36M]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/0868b904-9ea0-4fa5-8a48-60de231f9e6f/decgetu-410f2b50-f05d-4438-bd4c-5d54e999fe09.gif?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOiIsImlzcyI6InVybjphcHA6Iiwib2JqIjpbW3sicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvMDg2OGI5MDQtOWVhMC00ZmE1LThhNDgtNjBkZTIzMWY5ZTZmXC9kZWNnZXR1LTQxMGYyYjUwLWYwNWQtNDQzOC1iZDRjLTVkNTRlOTk5ZmUwOS5naWYifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6ZmlsZS5kb3dubG9hZCJdfQ.AhGfVC-v0aP8cQH999ivEm4DshSeF_amY4Ft1YXr36M)