[private] when you are younger, you will wish you were older.

[Nashua]

stars when you shine, you know how i feel
oh freedom is mine

"Have you ever been?" the copper pegasus asks his companion. Nashua thinks that there is an innocence in Olena that speaks of a family that has kept her safely within Tephra's borders (and there is nothing wrong with that). His childhood had been different because his mother had vanished before his first birthday and his biological father had shed himself of Taiga like he traded skins.

"The trees are so tall in Taiga that it's said it makes the old Gods jealous," Nash tells her and smiles at her like it is a secret to keep between them. He hopes that maybe it would inspire her to make the journey North and make a conclusion for herself.

"And the thunder bellows because," he says with his voice catching in his throat. He hadn't realized how much he had needed this, how much he had just needed to speak with someone who didn't make him think of everything that has passed. "Well because there are four brothers," he tells her and Nash turns his handsome face away from the turbulent sea. "They seldom get along," the pegasus adds. "And when they do come together, it often comes to blows. The sound of thunder are just the brothers trying to settle a dispute as they strike their hooves." His grin quirks to one-side, charming and lopsided.

These are the stories of his youth, the ones that had been murmured into his and Yanhua's delicate ears. There is probably very little truth to them or it has probably been lost to time. But he likes sharing them with Olena and he lifts the wing closest to her here so that she might come closer and keep warm against him despite the temperature that keeps dropping around them.

"There was once a horse who dreamed," Nashua starts as he settles the wing near the buckskin girl. "And this horse dreamed so high that it reached the stars." He looked out at the ocean again and he remembered this part of the story clearly. It had been a favorite of his. "The stars took the dream and from it, they crafted a feather from the clouds." He had snorted at that as a boy; now he recalls this memory fondly and it makes Nashua look thoughtful. The story took twists and turns as tales so often do; he mentioned that the Gods delivered the feather and proclaimed that whatever horse could run the swiftest would be gifted with the ability of flight.

He talked about the battles that ensued, of how the horses quarreled and raced and kicked up their heels to prove themselves worthy of this trait from the stars. Fleeter than the winds, faster than the rapids, surer than any galloping stride should be. Horses battled for a privilege that they deemed their right and in the end, his mouth tugs in that wayward grin again. "While the others argued amongst themselves, they say that the Gods went looking for the dreamer and gave them the Feather instead."

Nash wonders what his new companion will make of the striped stranger who told her theatrical tales about magical feathers and stars and horses that fought above the clouds.

"Why don't you tell me one," he teases. "A story for a story." His emerald eyes gleam playfully against the gray, winter light as he looks down at her. "How did you earn your spots?" Nash tilts his head to one side, hoping to encourage her to play along. If only for today. He's learned that reality was always there, always waiting. Nash doesn't mind creating something all their own for a little while.

NASHUA

html by castlegraphics; art by MirrorLands