It had been a few weeks since she'd been given her chance. To prove she was more than a weakling, to feed the fire in her eyes, to truly shine. The journey here with Tyrna- her light at the end of the tunnel- had seemed to go on forever, each step a struggle. But with the big, sliver black sabino mare beside her, guiding her, she'd found the strength. Though it'd been difficult, the tiny bay filly never gave up, even when exhaustion threatened to claim her with every breath. Just a little farther, you can do it. Don't fail her, don't fail yourself. It had been her inner mantra as they'd come, and she never complained. She knew Tyrna was taking her to a home, and she was increasingly happy and hopeful at the prospect of being accepted. As she was, as she is. Not as she should or could have been.
They crossed the borders into the lands she would learn were called the Falls, and the filly put all thoughts of her mother out of her mind. She wouldn't purge or repress the memories (of being called worthless, weak; of being cast out in her eyes, nor of the pain when a baby so young turned away from her own mother and set off to find something more), instead keeping them at the back of her mind. They would be her reminder of where she'd come from, where she was meant to go. She would never forget that she was Not weak. Rather, she would nevermore seek vengeance, no more trying to prove herself to the mare who would not have her because she is boring and 'traitless'. No. She decided she no longer would care what her mother had thought of her, nor if she ever even saw the mare again. She was no mother of hers. She'd denied the filly that right, and Triske would forever deny her the privilege. The only one she needed to prove her strength and worthiness to was herself. And of course, her new family.
The gray mare hailed Shatter Me, Queen of the Falls and mother to the lovely lady who brought her here, had graciously extended her hand to the starving baby girl. Triske had never been more grateful for the warmth and milk that the mare provided to her, eagerly accepting the nourishment she so greatly needed. She'd been shy at first, not wanting to be a burden and at the same time hopeful she would not be rebuffed. However, in the few weeks that passed, she'd grown more and more comfortable around her adoptive mother. Nature was taking its course with her; her sides were filling out, fat and muscle slowly covering the jagged baby bones, even her little dished face was more full. Her coat, though still fuzzy, was losing that dullness, and her eyes became a brighter brown- a rich shade of milk chocolate- that gleam at the smallest light that touch them.
Along with her features, her energy has been restored. Where before it'd been a struggle to keep her head up, now she carries it like a crown- high and proud. Where before her steps had trudged along and she'd lain more oft than stood, now she dances and runs and glories in the lightness of her petite little frame. Her tail, too, she carries high when she moves. All of her features are showing now the hints of an Arabian, her blood she cannot deny. Standing next to her new mom, one could tell they do not match- two pieces of a puzzle that don't fit- but this brave little girl doesn't pay this detail any mind. She is content with where she is, happy to have received this chance that Tyrna and Shatter have offered her. To belong didn't have to mean what they looked like, but instead what is felt in the heart. Here, she belongs.
With her growing strength, and a sense of comfort and safety, comes also curiosity and wonder. She has been told to be careful, to rest when she needs to, but Triske has never felt so alive and sure of herself. She dances through the trees lined along one side of the river flowing from their famous waterfall, her rhythm she gathers from the beat of her heart mixed with the soft roar of the falls and the wildlife all around her. It is music she has fast come to love, as much a part of her as the air she breathes. It is easy to say she is proud to have made it, happy to be alive, despite the challenge she'd been faced with so young. She has a fire that will never die, never be put out, and she would only find ways to feed it. For now, though, she lets herself be the child she should be and is and lets her imagination lead her as she wanders and explores the home she's been given.
The filly emerges from the treeline with a smile on her face and bits of snow in her fur and twigs in her mane and tail when she hears the sound of hooves splashing in water. Curiously, she moves toward the sound and quickly spots Tyrna stepping away from the rippling pool. Small ears flick forward as she notices the expression on the mare's face, but can't place the emotion she sees there. Shrugging it off, as children will, Triske kicks herself up into a run toward the mare she has come to look up to like a big sister. When she nears her, she rounds the mare excitedly until she reaches her side and bumps her dark shoulder with her soft velveteen nose. "Hi Tyrna! What's going on?" Already, she has begun to settle, taking in warmth from both the sun and the mare's heat, a bit tired from all her morning's play. She has many questions for her friend, but for now is more curious about that look in Tyrna's eyes and the tension in her body. Triske might be young, but these things are not lost on her.
They crossed the borders into the lands she would learn were called the Falls, and the filly put all thoughts of her mother out of her mind. She wouldn't purge or repress the memories (of being called worthless, weak; of being cast out in her eyes, nor of the pain when a baby so young turned away from her own mother and set off to find something more), instead keeping them at the back of her mind. They would be her reminder of where she'd come from, where she was meant to go. She would never forget that she was Not weak. Rather, she would nevermore seek vengeance, no more trying to prove herself to the mare who would not have her because she is boring and 'traitless'. No. She decided she no longer would care what her mother had thought of her, nor if she ever even saw the mare again. She was no mother of hers. She'd denied the filly that right, and Triske would forever deny her the privilege. The only one she needed to prove her strength and worthiness to was herself. And of course, her new family.
The gray mare hailed Shatter Me, Queen of the Falls and mother to the lovely lady who brought her here, had graciously extended her hand to the starving baby girl. Triske had never been more grateful for the warmth and milk that the mare provided to her, eagerly accepting the nourishment she so greatly needed. She'd been shy at first, not wanting to be a burden and at the same time hopeful she would not be rebuffed. However, in the few weeks that passed, she'd grown more and more comfortable around her adoptive mother. Nature was taking its course with her; her sides were filling out, fat and muscle slowly covering the jagged baby bones, even her little dished face was more full. Her coat, though still fuzzy, was losing that dullness, and her eyes became a brighter brown- a rich shade of milk chocolate- that gleam at the smallest light that touch them.
Along with her features, her energy has been restored. Where before it'd been a struggle to keep her head up, now she carries it like a crown- high and proud. Where before her steps had trudged along and she'd lain more oft than stood, now she dances and runs and glories in the lightness of her petite little frame. Her tail, too, she carries high when she moves. All of her features are showing now the hints of an Arabian, her blood she cannot deny. Standing next to her new mom, one could tell they do not match- two pieces of a puzzle that don't fit- but this brave little girl doesn't pay this detail any mind. She is content with where she is, happy to have received this chance that Tyrna and Shatter have offered her. To belong didn't have to mean what they looked like, but instead what is felt in the heart. Here, she belongs.
With her growing strength, and a sense of comfort and safety, comes also curiosity and wonder. She has been told to be careful, to rest when she needs to, but Triske has never felt so alive and sure of herself. She dances through the trees lined along one side of the river flowing from their famous waterfall, her rhythm she gathers from the beat of her heart mixed with the soft roar of the falls and the wildlife all around her. It is music she has fast come to love, as much a part of her as the air she breathes. It is easy to say she is proud to have made it, happy to be alive, despite the challenge she'd been faced with so young. She has a fire that will never die, never be put out, and she would only find ways to feed it. For now, though, she lets herself be the child she should be and is and lets her imagination lead her as she wanders and explores the home she's been given.
The filly emerges from the treeline with a smile on her face and bits of snow in her fur and twigs in her mane and tail when she hears the sound of hooves splashing in water. Curiously, she moves toward the sound and quickly spots Tyrna stepping away from the rippling pool. Small ears flick forward as she notices the expression on the mare's face, but can't place the emotion she sees there. Shrugging it off, as children will, Triske kicks herself up into a run toward the mare she has come to look up to like a big sister. When she nears her, she rounds the mare excitedly until she reaches her side and bumps her dark shoulder with her soft velveteen nose. "Hi Tyrna! What's going on?" Already, she has begun to settle, taking in warmth from both the sun and the mare's heat, a bit tired from all her morning's play. She has many questions for her friend, but for now is more curious about that look in Tyrna's eyes and the tension in her body. Triske might be young, but these things are not lost on her.
![[Image: 33csrhy.jpg]](http://i57.tinypic.com/33csrhy.jpg)