07-03-2017, 02:45 PM
Are you gonna be in my dreams tonight?...
She had only vague memories in her head today, my red wytch. Winter has come, so the mushrooms, weeds, and various berries she enjoys for their psychedelic effects are gone for now. Mostly her memories are good. Not all of them, but most of them. This morning she remembers the pink-black patchwork youngling who was almost felt like a daughter to her. Cast out from her herd and wandering the plains, the barely two-year old had come to my marrow-red mare in a daze. She couldn't believe her own blood had thrown her from their ranks, but nothing surprised Jah-Lilah. She had seen the cruelty of others on many occasions, and even shared in some herself. It had disgusted her. Jah had took the filly under her wing, but she was a warrior. She didn't need Jah for anything, but she had to learn that. The only time Jah ever longed for siblings or stability instead of the horizon was when she thought of that baby. Perhaps that was why Jah was here seeking something yet again.
The red mare found herself alone in the meadow again. Her coat was long and fluffy, a result of the steadily dropping temperatures in Beqanna. Tiny flakes settled comfortably on the tips of her mane and tail, and every so often Jah-Lilah shakes herself slightly to get rid of them. She pushes her muzzle through the top layer of ice, greedily seeking out the emerald shoots of grass underneath. She nears a favorite spot of hers, and fortunately the small hill shields her from the wind today. She huddles down, turning her big curvy rump to the outside, and faces the trees at the bottom of her knoll. She thought she had seen a glimpse of the pied precog, a small buckskin girl who reminded her of herself, and the adopted daughter from so long ago. Her eyes slowly closed, but she keeps her ears on a swivel, keeping track of movements in the area.
...And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.
She had only vague memories in her head today, my red wytch. Winter has come, so the mushrooms, weeds, and various berries she enjoys for their psychedelic effects are gone for now. Mostly her memories are good. Not all of them, but most of them. This morning she remembers the pink-black patchwork youngling who was almost felt like a daughter to her. Cast out from her herd and wandering the plains, the barely two-year old had come to my marrow-red mare in a daze. She couldn't believe her own blood had thrown her from their ranks, but nothing surprised Jah-Lilah. She had seen the cruelty of others on many occasions, and even shared in some herself. It had disgusted her. Jah had took the filly under her wing, but she was a warrior. She didn't need Jah for anything, but she had to learn that. The only time Jah ever longed for siblings or stability instead of the horizon was when she thought of that baby. Perhaps that was why Jah was here seeking something yet again.
The red mare found herself alone in the meadow again. Her coat was long and fluffy, a result of the steadily dropping temperatures in Beqanna. Tiny flakes settled comfortably on the tips of her mane and tail, and every so often Jah-Lilah shakes herself slightly to get rid of them. She pushes her muzzle through the top layer of ice, greedily seeking out the emerald shoots of grass underneath. She nears a favorite spot of hers, and fortunately the small hill shields her from the wind today. She huddles down, turning her big curvy rump to the outside, and faces the trees at the bottom of her knoll. She thought she had seen a glimpse of the pied precog, a small buckskin girl who reminded her of herself, and the adopted daughter from so long ago. Her eyes slowly closed, but she keeps her ears on a swivel, keeping track of movements in the area.
...And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.
someday, we will foresee obstacles
@[Tangerine]