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07-20-2014, 03:54 PM
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Of the few things that the little slave girl enjoyed in life, nature was perhaps the most prominent pleasure, and the Hidden Falls had no shortage of natural beauty. It was for this reason most of all that the buckskin had grown somewhat fond of her newest master. He had been absent for quite some time, leaving his acquisition to amble about the Falls in silence: to breathe in the fresh air, to feel the mist of the myriad falls on her skin, to smell the summer greenery. She was neither here nor there, not a part of the family but an outsider kept on the outskirts of their civilization, but she did not begrudge Oxy his secrets; no, she was bound to ensure that they remained such. And, with her growing affection for the Addict, she was determined to make him happy. Of course, it would help if she knew just how she was supposed to do that. As you can see, absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder. In any case, the little slave had made her home in a copse of trees near the top of one of the smaller falls. She loved the way the sun felt there, the way it filtered through the dense foliage, the way she could look out over the valley as it set in the west, illuminating her new home and all who inhabited it. She loved how easy it was to hide, and yet feel as though she were included in the world again. She loved the way the water danced through the sky, throwing rainbows and a fine spray into her little home, even through the trees enclosing her refuge. It was here that the boggart found her, blossoming into beautiful marigolds at her hooves, drawing a smile from the buckskin. She watched as the flowers formed again, a bit further away, as though beckoning her forward, and it was at an easy trot that the mare followed her invisible thread, watching gold bloom and fade until finally, she came to a halt before her master. They were alone, and a familiar tendril of fear crept into her chest, for though she doubted he would truly hurt her, she could not help but remember all the masters before him. They had left her alone - would he do the same? She bowed gracefully, tucking her right foreleg beneath her and lowering her head, her thick forelock falling forward over her eyes. It was here that she waited, hoping for orders, praying for solidarity, fearing a newfound solitude. "Talk talk talk." |
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