i've never fallen from quite this high | savage pony

[basilica]

basilica

It is quiet in the forest and this is likely what draws her to it. There are secrets here, sometimes she thinks she can smell them. And, when she is bored, she imagines stories that go along with all of those secrets. She imagines so many things, something her mother taught her when she was small.

But she is no secret. Because, although she is the same deep black as her father (the same deep black of the forest’s shadows), she emits a soft glow. Pale pink like the horizon just before dawn. She cannot hide here, although she doesn’t think she would want to even if she could.

She wanders, something a friend taught her when she was small. Moving without any destination in mind, moving just for the sake of moving. And, though she had a friend once, she understands that most of her life will be spent alone. She will not always have a companion. Against all odds, she has made peace with this.

The crash in the canopy overhead startles her from her reverie and she skitters with fright, nostrils flared, eyes rolling. But there are no immediate threats that she can see. She does not see him until she tips back her head to investigate the source of the great, clamorous sound. She blinks him into focus, calls out to him, but there is no response.

So, she waits. For hours, she waits. Until he begins to stir, until his sigh makes her think that he must be awake. She looks up again and tries calling out again. “Are you awake?”

heaven's gate had
such eloquent graffiti

@[Gale]