When we can crucify our tragedies on overbearing parents or the razor tongues bullies in our foalhood, blame is far to easily painted against the skins and hearts of those who care most. One can walk roads of glass shards without being cut if only they should believe that they are untouchable.
Lux enters the field not knowing it is more than a thickly spread grass blanket that lay before the homeless and abandoned. Each foot fall of the Arabian is muffled only by the small sounds of crumbling vegetation. Her black eyes are wide with ears moving in the nest of her dark hair. She can smell others but they remain just beyond eyesight, camouflaged on the edge of tree line and great grass sea.
From the edges of her eyes are shadows and whispers. The sun is warm but she shivers slightly, the flames along her spine a modestly low and burning gently. Lux wonders briefly if she could tear this world apart. Malice was not a bitter drink on her tongue but a genuine curiosity for each world she slipped into was different than the last, each a puzzle box that held secrets that are never truly meant to be concealed.
One foot after the other, she moves, the grass licking her slender sides. Mars of black smudge the green edges as they greedily dip into the wax drippings that carve their way down her barrel. A crawl of a smile drifts over her black lips as she notices there are others not far up ahead. Lux debates a moment to call but knows that as the sun begins to sink, she would glow against the inky sky and would soon be noticed.