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    Reave -- Year 219


    "She did not wake up one day healed, she was simply moving and she realized that somewhere along the way grief had stopped stabbing her every motion. It’s a strange feeling. She is lighter and heavier at once. She doesn’t know what to do with the time that’s opened before her, what to do without wounds to claw open." --Cordis, written by Cassi

    [private]  the clock is ticking and we can't stop
    “Oh hey Mama,” Myrna says, looking up only long enough to identify Mazikeen before returning her attention to the rocky shoreline. “I’m lookin’ for a frog. They’re really hoppy and are about that color.”

    With one downy limb, she points toward the ever green pines that make up the high altitude forests, a deep rich shade like Malik has told her the frogs of the river wear. They’re all the same color, too, her brother had said: small and hairless and slimey. Myrna has never seen a reptile before; it is too cold here in her home for such things to survive. Naturally, she is fascinated.

    “Have you ever seen a frog, Mama? What are they like?”

    Her mother has seen everything, Myrna is sure, so the anticipation is bright in her storm blue eyes. Perhaps Mazikeen has even caught one, like Malik said he had. But he couldn’t tell her what it tasted like, and the palomino filly is morbidly curious about such things.

    Looking at her mother more closely now as she waits for a story, Myrna notices that her horns are smaller today. More like Myrna’s, the girl thinks, and smiles. She likes when they match. They match in other ways today too, both stocky and pale in their equine shapes, and with a soft noise of contentment the filly nestles her head against her mother’s shoulder.

    It is warm here, tucked under her mother’s wing, and once she is settled in most comfortably she looks up expectantly, waiting for her story.

    @ Mazikeen

    Messages In This Thread
    the clock is ticking and we can't stop; ii - by Viszla - 10-04-2021, 07:47 PM

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