I have finally woken from my bizarre, scary, ridiculously crazy dream, and I couldn’t be more excited. As soon as my hooves touch the meadows grass I spring from the ground and make my way toward the Tundra. My mother had told me stories of the snow-covered bachelor land. She told me that it was so cold that my wet nose would freeze and just fall off. She told me that my hooves would not be able to catch the icy floor and that I would fall to my doom. My mother was too silly, and although a bit of me imagined that there may have been some truth to her tales I really want to meet my dad.
My dad- All I know is his name, but I imagine him to be heroically big as I am so small. I imagine his voice to be a powerful boom over my head, but his touch to be gentle and encouraging. I imagine my dad is pretty awesome because my own awesomeness had to genetically come from somewhere. As I make my way toward the land of my father I imagine all that I believe him to be. This causes me to pick up my pace to a hurried one. I can feel the stones slam against my hooves as I pick at the dirt to gain leverage. A large breeze of cool air touches my ears causing them to shutter. I am certainly close.
When I cross the border into the Tundra I slow my gallop to a walk so that I can better investigate the land. My head arches and I touch my nose to the cold, hardened floor. It smells rustic, old, and mired. I outstretch my tongue and take a slobbery lick at the padded dirt. ”Hmm….” I mumble as a clump of dirt hits my teeth. It is gritty with a touch of water- maybe ice. The dirt doesn’t taste much different than the patches I am used to, what a shame. The dirt keeps me distracted for only a moment because I soon remember my true mission- dad. Slowly I waddle my body forward with more uncertain legs. I can feel a splash of nerves rise up into my stomach causing me to feel a bit queasy. I do hope someone notices my awkward chestnut form before I lose my breakfast.
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tiny daughter of brennen and bother
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