Love is Blindness
Love is clockworks and it's cold steel
Fingers too numb to feel
Fingers too numb to feel
It doesn't feel real. Nothing does anymore. His hooves touch the ground, he sees it, but he feels like he's floating. It's warm out, he sees the sun, but it does nothing to heat his flesh. The cold, the wind, tree branches, the ocean, all these things that once caused him equal parts pleasure and discomfort, and he feels nothing. In someways his condition is a blessing. No longer does he feel the stinging blows from his mother or the dull ache of healing wounds. His sense of touch has blurred everything together into a vague sensation of pressure. Cold pressure, hot pressure, more, less, all the same. It left the smoky boy feeling out of place and distressed.
His father was pleased enough which was one less thing for the colt to worry about, but his mother reviled him. Whenever he sought her affection he was pushed away. He was weaned early so she could push him away further, leaving the sweet boy weakened. He was a tall, dangerously thin boy as it was. His features were starting to show the grace and power from his heritage with soft, gentle eyes and a handsome profile.
He found himself wandering back to the field, the place of his ill timed birth, looking for something. Perhaps the comforting touch of another being, or at the very least the companionship he was so desperate to find and lacking at home.
When he reached the meadow he was beside himself with timid glee. Never before had he seen so many horses gathered in one meeting place. The grass was lush beneath his desensitized hooves and the sun was bright. He couldn't help the silly grin that pulled at unused muscles as he looked for someone to talk to.
His father was pleased enough which was one less thing for the colt to worry about, but his mother reviled him. Whenever he sought her affection he was pushed away. He was weaned early so she could push him away further, leaving the sweet boy weakened. He was a tall, dangerously thin boy as it was. His features were starting to show the grace and power from his heritage with soft, gentle eyes and a handsome profile.
He found himself wandering back to the field, the place of his ill timed birth, looking for something. Perhaps the comforting touch of another being, or at the very least the companionship he was so desperate to find and lacking at home.
When he reached the meadow he was beside himself with timid glee. Never before had he seen so many horses gathered in one meeting place. The grass was lush beneath his desensitized hooves and the sun was bright. He couldn't help the silly grin that pulled at unused muscles as he looked for someone to talk to.
I don't want to see
Fraktyr | Hybrid | Smokey Black | Colt