04-03-2016, 10:12 PM
Rile makes it look so easy. Of course he does, he came out bold and daring, somehow believing he's a gift to the world and not a burden. He is black as the dead of night, all but his legs. He looks like he leapt into a puddle of starlight and it stuck to his lower legs, nebulae swirling and shining and clinging to him like he really is a gift from the whatever gods watch over this strange new world. He walked right up to the first person he saw here and charmed his way into her heart and her home. But me? I'm no night sky dipped in starlight. I'm dull earth-tinged shadows and smoke, soot and ash and cinders. There is nothing shining about me, no celestial bodies twinkling from my dirt-brown eyes. I am not about to hold him back, so I let those shadows claim me, sinking backward into the darkness and fading away.
I wonder how long he'll even remember he ever had a twin. Maybe I will be nothing more than the imaginary friend he had once upon a time, only a distant memory of bodies entwined in darkness, cushioned from the world by warmth and water and the thudding of heartbeats. Maybe I will be a story he tells himself as he falls asleep, or a pleasant dream that visits him now and then. But one mare can only produce so much milk, and I will not deprive him of his best chance at survival. And besides, the colt already at her side means he will have a new brother. Bigger, stronger, so much better than I would have been.
So much better than I could ever be.
As quietly as I can, I skulk through the shadows at the edges of this strange clearing where it seems customary for mothers to dispose of their young, and others to come and pick through the rejected to find those worth saving. That's not me. I'll save the lot of them the trouble. I wonder how long it takes a newborn to die of starvation. Not long, I imagine. Maybe I won't even die, maybe I'll just slowly come undone, breathing out the solid parts of me until I am a wisp, shadows and smoke in truth instead of just the colors of my body. I can still hear Rile charming his new mother and brother, though his voice is fading as they walk away, a happy new family off to their home somewhere far away from here.
I hope it lasts. I hope they love him, and take good care of him, and he grows up big and strong. Well, as big as we can be anyhow. His new mother is much larger than the one who left us here, and his new brother is much larger than either of us. Larger than we would even be if we could take both our masses and combine them into one colt. That's good. Probably it means they'll be better able to protect him, right?
Hiding is hard work, and I soon grow weary. I try first to rest in the shelter of a shrub, but it is prickly with thorns and the branches poke me, and the discomfort is not worth the cover it would grant. Instead, I curl up against the trunk of a large tree, with lovely rough bark that scratches an itchy spot on my side as I lower myself to the ground. There are shadows still, cast by its thick foliage, and after all I am much more soot than ash. I doubt anyone will see me. And even if they do, it won't take them long to see I am not one of the rare gems worth saving from this refuse pile. Unconcerned, I close my eyes and try to sleep.
I wonder how long he'll even remember he ever had a twin. Maybe I will be nothing more than the imaginary friend he had once upon a time, only a distant memory of bodies entwined in darkness, cushioned from the world by warmth and water and the thudding of heartbeats. Maybe I will be a story he tells himself as he falls asleep, or a pleasant dream that visits him now and then. But one mare can only produce so much milk, and I will not deprive him of his best chance at survival. And besides, the colt already at her side means he will have a new brother. Bigger, stronger, so much better than I would have been.
So much better than I could ever be.
As quietly as I can, I skulk through the shadows at the edges of this strange clearing where it seems customary for mothers to dispose of their young, and others to come and pick through the rejected to find those worth saving. That's not me. I'll save the lot of them the trouble. I wonder how long it takes a newborn to die of starvation. Not long, I imagine. Maybe I won't even die, maybe I'll just slowly come undone, breathing out the solid parts of me until I am a wisp, shadows and smoke in truth instead of just the colors of my body. I can still hear Rile charming his new mother and brother, though his voice is fading as they walk away, a happy new family off to their home somewhere far away from here.
I hope it lasts. I hope they love him, and take good care of him, and he grows up big and strong. Well, as big as we can be anyhow. His new mother is much larger than the one who left us here, and his new brother is much larger than either of us. Larger than we would even be if we could take both our masses and combine them into one colt. That's good. Probably it means they'll be better able to protect him, right?
Hiding is hard work, and I soon grow weary. I try first to rest in the shelter of a shrub, but it is prickly with thorns and the branches poke me, and the discomfort is not worth the cover it would grant. Instead, I curl up against the trunk of a large tree, with lovely rough bark that scratches an itchy spot on my side as I lower myself to the ground. There are shadows still, cast by its thick foliage, and after all I am much more soot than ash. I doubt anyone will see me. And even if they do, it won't take them long to see I am not one of the rare gems worth saving from this refuse pile. Unconcerned, I close my eyes and try to sleep.