09-04-2016, 03:43 PM
Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry you home
Epithet and Leola
The white mare had to come out of hiding eventually. But she found, that within the solace of the forest, she was able to forget her grief at losing her magic, and perhaps even able to come to terms with it—considering the distraction she had in taking care of the small creature who now trailed behind her heels, nudging against her when she was afraid. The feeling of taking care of something—someone—again was fulfilling some deeper part in her, and while she did not feel entirely at peace, Epithet found that she was at least satisfied with her life as it was.
Leola was a precious child. She was anything but graceful, stumbling over twig and branch and bruising her tiny hooves on the pebbles and larger stones as she was constantly tripping over them, but she stayed with her mumma and wished for nothing more than to one day understand why her mum always appeared to have such sad eyes. She could not as yet say much—not that she would choose to do so anyway, for there was not much to say—but she took the world in around her and observed much. She knew when to eat, and when to potty; she knew that the world was not as it had been before her birth; She had that mindset about her. She also knew that there was something about her that should have been, but was not—however, not being able to understand what had happened to her to make her feel that way, she stayed silent, following her mum as a good little girl ought.
Though she supposed that one day she would be able to understand—or at least be brave enough to ask why.
Leola was a precious child. She was anything but graceful, stumbling over twig and branch and bruising her tiny hooves on the pebbles and larger stones as she was constantly tripping over them, but she stayed with her mumma and wished for nothing more than to one day understand why her mum always appeared to have such sad eyes. She could not as yet say much—not that she would choose to do so anyway, for there was not much to say—but she took the world in around her and observed much. She knew when to eat, and when to potty; she knew that the world was not as it had been before her birth; She had that mindset about her. She also knew that there was something about her that should have been, but was not—however, not being able to understand what had happened to her to make her feel that way, she stayed silent, following her mum as a good little girl ought.
Though she supposed that one day she would be able to understand—or at least be brave enough to ask why.
@[Silverbell]