I can’t be sure this is my heart [Roselin]

[Memorie]

one lives in hope of becoming a memory

Ever since my meeting with @[Roselin], there had been a constant reminder at the back of my mind of the sunflowers and the garden the other filly wanted to grow. Even when the moon came and stole the sunlight from our world, I had not forgotten. In fact, the absence of the sun only got me to thinking more deeply about the idea of bringing her sunflowers to Taiga, enough that I had spent some time really looking between the lines of my flora revival. When I wasn’t helping the herd by sustaining their bellies with much needed sustenance, I could be found examining the death that surrounded me. I had even gone as far as combining gifts to learn even more about the plants that had grown here when the sun had shone by seeking out the residue of their emotions–and yes, plants very much do have emotions.

So, what does the death of the flora that grows beneath the redwoods have anything to do with the sunflowers, you ask? Well, the way I looked at it, if I could really learn the signatures of these plants, then I could look for the signatures of other plants around me as well, and hopefully, the memories that Roselin had shared with me, coupled with those signatures, could lead me to find these sunflowers.

It is only after I have mastered this new facet of my abilities that I seek her out once more, because now I feel confident that I could help her.

In this darkness, I had changed so much. The small horns that had begun to sprout just before the sun disappeared are now longer, closer to matching my father’s. Something else has changed, as well. A very faint glow had appeared along my back, just bright enough to make out the shape of wings, if you squinted enough. They weren’t as bright as Cheri’s blessed wings, and certainly not as bright as father’s, but they were there, a discovery that had been received with quite a bit of pride and excitement on my part. 

The soft, blue glow that comes from the wings and the little socks around my ankles illuminate the path ahead of me. The glow falls upon the dead ferns and shamrocks that had once grown so vibrantly in the understory. Though the obvious signs of death are sad to think about, it emboldens and encourages me. I still believe that, one day, the sun would return, and that these plants would all grow back, stronger than before, more resilient against the shadows that often fall beneath the redwoods, which means that life needed to go on, and with it, I felt that Roselin and I should continue looking for a way to bring her sunflowers back to Taiga.

I open my mind to the vague signatures that remain alive within the forest, searching for the one that would match the ice-breathing filly. When I find that signature, I shift my weight and move into a trot. When I get closer, I whicker out a soft greeting to her so I don’t startle or frighten her (because we live in a time of monsters). “Roselin,” I say, softly as I draw to a stop before her. I don’t hesitate to get right into it. “I’ve been thinking about your sunflowers, and though the sun is gone, I think I’ve figured out a way that we can still look for them. So, when we find them, after the sun returns, we can bring them back to Taiga.” I stop here to wait for a response, slightly nervous, though I’m not exactly sure why.

Memorie

Image by Calcifer