01-06-2021, 10:28 PM
one lives in hope of becoming a memory
I’ve always been observant of others. I guess I had learned to always pay attention because mother had needed me, in more ways than one. I have always kept an ear tipped toward any conversation around me. I have always paid attention to all the physical signs of emotions, rather than relying on my empathic echoes, though that helped as well. I have even paid attention to how others act when they’re together. This is why I know so much about the lives of those who surround me.
What I don’t know how to do is pay attention to silly little things like the rocks and twigs and leaves beneath my hooves. I’m constantly tripping over rocks and roots and other obstacles in my path. That’s why I didn’t even notice when I stepped on a twig and snapped it. I’m not going for stealth. I’m not aiming to surprise. So I care little about where my hooves land.
What I do care about is that Roselin gives me a shy kind of smile. It softens her, makes her more approachable. Initially, it’s hard to see the resemblance she shares with Lilliana. While Lilliana is a chestnut (like father and myself), Roselin is a unique shade of black (a color I secretly find myself longing for). But the more I look at her, the more I can see my grandmother in her. It wasn’t just in her overall structure and fine features, but she shares the same kind of air about her.
I am so caught up in my thoughts that I almost forget to respond to the other filly. I shake my head with a soft laugh on my lips. “Sorry, I’m Memorie. I’m your niece.” It felt kind of weird saying that, because this filly wasn’t much older than I am. In fact, she’s younger than her brother who is my father. My head spins a little at this. “That sounds a little awkward.” I laugh. “Well, I’m Yanhua’s daughter.” I quickly realize that she might already know this (Taiga was big, but it wasn’t so big that word didn’t travel around), so I add on, “in case you didn’t already know.”
But I didn’t come here to make things awkward. I had come out of curiosity to see this garden grandma had mentioned to mother. I’m not going to lie, this kind of thing intrigued me. Did she have a gift like mine and mother’s? Granted, we could only help grow plants that were already there, so it’s not like I could just start my own garden. Could Roselin have even stronger gifts than mother’s and mine? Or did she have a green thumb? I certainly didn’t know the first thing about planting a garden. “I heard you have a garden,” I say, trying not to sound too excited, but a little bit of that excitement edges its way into my voice nonetheless.
What I don’t know how to do is pay attention to silly little things like the rocks and twigs and leaves beneath my hooves. I’m constantly tripping over rocks and roots and other obstacles in my path. That’s why I didn’t even notice when I stepped on a twig and snapped it. I’m not going for stealth. I’m not aiming to surprise. So I care little about where my hooves land.
What I do care about is that Roselin gives me a shy kind of smile. It softens her, makes her more approachable. Initially, it’s hard to see the resemblance she shares with Lilliana. While Lilliana is a chestnut (like father and myself), Roselin is a unique shade of black (a color I secretly find myself longing for). But the more I look at her, the more I can see my grandmother in her. It wasn’t just in her overall structure and fine features, but she shares the same kind of air about her.
I am so caught up in my thoughts that I almost forget to respond to the other filly. I shake my head with a soft laugh on my lips. “Sorry, I’m Memorie. I’m your niece.” It felt kind of weird saying that, because this filly wasn’t much older than I am. In fact, she’s younger than her brother who is my father. My head spins a little at this. “That sounds a little awkward.” I laugh. “Well, I’m Yanhua’s daughter.” I quickly realize that she might already know this (Taiga was big, but it wasn’t so big that word didn’t travel around), so I add on, “in case you didn’t already know.”
But I didn’t come here to make things awkward. I had come out of curiosity to see this garden grandma had mentioned to mother. I’m not going to lie, this kind of thing intrigued me. Did she have a gift like mine and mother’s? Granted, we could only help grow plants that were already there, so it’s not like I could just start my own garden. Could Roselin have even stronger gifts than mother’s and mine? Or did she have a green thumb? I certainly didn’t know the first thing about planting a garden. “I heard you have a garden,” I say, trying not to sound too excited, but a little bit of that excitement edges its way into my voice nonetheless.
memorie
