11-11-2015, 11:46 PM
Whereas her parents had the steadiness and roots on an oak tree, she was more like the wild flower. She grew carelessly and with reckless abandon, her roots having not yet taken to any one piece of earth. The Gates were home, certainly, but she knew there was much to see beyond those borders. Her gypsy soul had a yearning for wanderlust, and who was she to deny it such a thing?
Her feet were prone to pulling her out from under the watchful gaze of her mama, and today was no different. With the sun hanging high in the sky she slipped off, careful to avoid making too much noise in the forest. She thought maybe her mama had just given up trying to keep her contained- one could only hold water in their hands for so long before it slipped between the fingers. The meadow had slowly become a favorite haunt of hers. There were so many faces with stories written on them. Her mama and father probably wouldn’t approve, but thus far she hadn’t been one to hold to strictly to rules.
She slipped into the meadow quietly, with the air of a much older soul trapped in the gangly body of a filly. Her grulla coat pulled in the sunshine, and she smiled to feel its warmth. Given the opportunity she would visit the sun or so she thought. But today she lacked wings, so her eyes swept over those bound to earth instead. A glimmer of gold and silver caught her eye and she was drawn to it as a moth to a flame. Perhaps she should have been cautious, but those prone to wandering aren’t often the most sensible. Instead she approached with a smile, her tiny tail wringing over her hocks. “I’m Topsail.” she said, looking directly in the young stallions eyes. Of course her voice wasn’t out loud, but rather directed into his mind. As she always did she paused, waiting to see if her message would come across as she had intended. Mind voice was a tricky thing, but having never had a real voice, she didn’t know much different.
Her feet were prone to pulling her out from under the watchful gaze of her mama, and today was no different. With the sun hanging high in the sky she slipped off, careful to avoid making too much noise in the forest. She thought maybe her mama had just given up trying to keep her contained- one could only hold water in their hands for so long before it slipped between the fingers. The meadow had slowly become a favorite haunt of hers. There were so many faces with stories written on them. Her mama and father probably wouldn’t approve, but thus far she hadn’t been one to hold to strictly to rules.
She slipped into the meadow quietly, with the air of a much older soul trapped in the gangly body of a filly. Her grulla coat pulled in the sunshine, and she smiled to feel its warmth. Given the opportunity she would visit the sun or so she thought. But today she lacked wings, so her eyes swept over those bound to earth instead. A glimmer of gold and silver caught her eye and she was drawn to it as a moth to a flame. Perhaps she should have been cautious, but those prone to wandering aren’t often the most sensible. Instead she approached with a smile, her tiny tail wringing over her hocks. “I’m Topsail.” she said, looking directly in the young stallions eyes. Of course her voice wasn’t out loud, but rather directed into his mind. As she always did she paused, waiting to see if her message would come across as she had intended. Mind voice was a tricky thing, but having never had a real voice, she didn’t know much different.