01-23-2017, 07:02 PM
She stands quietly at the edge of the forest, a smudge of blue and white buried amongst the dark and shadow of the quiet woods. The forest was home, it always had been, it was safe and good and she had never ventured further. She had been born within the stone walls of a small cave, grey and warm and beneath the watchful eyes of parents who loved her very much. She had grown, too, within those same safe grey walls, until she was old enough to explore the world outside and her parents agreed to let her go without fretting too much.
Until now, she had never considered leaving the forest. The trees and the caves and wildlife buried within had always been enough to satiate her need for new and the quiet hum of curiosity that thrummed always in the pit of that delicate blue chest. But ever since that woman, Marlyn she had called herself, had restored to Luster the gifts that she had not even known were missing in the first place, that curiosity had planted itself like a seed and bloomed, entwining itself through her veins and the marrow in her bones until she was made of it entirely.
She peers out into the meadow, those small blue and black ears tipped barely forward beneath the tangles of the dark and corn-silk mane. It’s hard to say what it is she is looking for, but the small girl feels certain she will know it when she finds it. Quietly, cautiously, she slips forward through the trees, turning back to look only once at the forest that now fell away behind her. She felt a moment of uncertainty, a twinge in her stomach, but when she turned back to look out across the meadow again she found that the moment had passed.
With a sigh trapped in her chest, an eager sound waiting to escape her lips, she bounded deeper into the meadow, disappearing (quite literally) in and out of the shadows beneath random, stand-alone trees. Beneath one tree, however, she finds a girl. She is small and grey like the belly of a storm-cloud, all dark and soft except for a whorl of white color on her forehead. In the shadows Luster inches closer, curious, and still completely invisible for reasons she cannot fathom but does admittedly enjoy. When she is close enough to see those sky blue eyes, bluer even than that dusky blue of her own skin, she smiles brightly (still invisible, though now she has forgotten this) and says, “Hello!” Her voice is like summer and rain, like sunshine caught in the beads of dew, “My name is Luster.” She eases closer, curious, and wide splash of sunlight unveils the soft blue roan of her hip and hind leg, all the way down to the short white stocking. “Do you live here?”
Until now, she had never considered leaving the forest. The trees and the caves and wildlife buried within had always been enough to satiate her need for new and the quiet hum of curiosity that thrummed always in the pit of that delicate blue chest. But ever since that woman, Marlyn she had called herself, had restored to Luster the gifts that she had not even known were missing in the first place, that curiosity had planted itself like a seed and bloomed, entwining itself through her veins and the marrow in her bones until she was made of it entirely.
She peers out into the meadow, those small blue and black ears tipped barely forward beneath the tangles of the dark and corn-silk mane. It’s hard to say what it is she is looking for, but the small girl feels certain she will know it when she finds it. Quietly, cautiously, she slips forward through the trees, turning back to look only once at the forest that now fell away behind her. She felt a moment of uncertainty, a twinge in her stomach, but when she turned back to look out across the meadow again she found that the moment had passed.
With a sigh trapped in her chest, an eager sound waiting to escape her lips, she bounded deeper into the meadow, disappearing (quite literally) in and out of the shadows beneath random, stand-alone trees. Beneath one tree, however, she finds a girl. She is small and grey like the belly of a storm-cloud, all dark and soft except for a whorl of white color on her forehead. In the shadows Luster inches closer, curious, and still completely invisible for reasons she cannot fathom but does admittedly enjoy. When she is close enough to see those sky blue eyes, bluer even than that dusky blue of her own skin, she smiles brightly (still invisible, though now she has forgotten this) and says, “Hello!” Her voice is like summer and rain, like sunshine caught in the beads of dew, “My name is Luster.” She eases closer, curious, and wide splash of sunlight unveils the soft blue roan of her hip and hind leg, all the way down to the short white stocking. “Do you live here?”
