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There have been many times within my young life in which I found myself utterly lost. Having traveled to the Foothills and finding that my family had evacuated the land as if it held some Plague, I had no where to return to. After months of living upon the earth which sprouted fresh and anew under my hooves, without a friendly face for miles and weeks, I had been more than ready to greet my mother as a strong, young man. Instead, I had been greeted by a butterscotch colored mare I hardly recognized, let alone knew her name. Ultimately, the feeling sinking into my gut had been one of hopelessness. When I sought out my mother, she was missing. All the more, I began to wish I had never left.
Yet, deep down in the strong beat of my chambered heart, I knew. I had done the right thing by leaving. So many new faces had lit with suspicious joy at the sight of fresh grass under my hooves, so many smiles, so many names, so many thanks. I had been brought unto this world to bring life to those who needed it. I am aware that nothing I had done during the Endless Night had been in vain. Every brave yet uncertain step, ever drop of my energy spent, every hour I spent away from my family had been worth it. I would make my mother proud, and I would live up to my father's expectations. More importantly, I am a beacon of good and kindness in this world so absent of such a pleasant glimmer.
The winter had been long and brutal. Spring had begun in a silent night, and now...?
The sun had since returned, yet there had been no sign of my beloved mother. I figured that I would return to the Dragon's Throat and ask Midas if he had seen her, for I was certain that she must have spoken with him. Perhaps, she had finally given into Midas's wish and returned to the desert, though I highly doubted it.
Some political issues I had never quite understood there; I had been too young to make sense of her issues with the Resolute.
Now, instead of the company of my step-father, I sought out the presence of my actual father. I flew north on steady wings, flight which had been gifted to me by none other than Midas. I was no sloppy flier now, though, and my wide wings kissed the sky with loving caresses as the sun beamed down upon my back in a gentle reminder that the night was over. Father should be home. I should not have a task anymore. Still, there was something that saddened me about that fact.
When Father had requested my strength to help the citizens of Helovia, I had accepted a task too large for my small, frail body. Now, nearly reaching over sixteen hands, almost fully grown, and, in spirit, years wiser than I had been just months ago, I could handle such a request. I am no longer the useless, scared child that I had been in my youth. Now, I am full of life and the will to do good, along with the strength to make it happen. My only problem at such an age is not knowing when something is too much. My confidence is overflowing, which is just the time for life to come around and rip it from underneath you. This is not the tale of this day, though, friends.
We will save that for another time.
My silver mane whips about the set of curling horns, my young face growing more full and masculine with each day. I am to be an imposing force when I fully age, and it is beginning to show in each curve of newly forming muscle, in each inch of height I seem to grow per day. Many had confused me for a full grown stallion already because of my tall stature, but I knew the reason for such heights. I am tall as trees thanks to my father, and mother is no small pony either. The childish feature about me rests in the eyes - the glimmer of youth. Another, almost quirky - the twist of my lips in that awkwardly adolescent smile.
I am not even two years old yet, and if you watch me close enough, it becomes painfully obvious. I should also mention that I am currently at that age where you try overly hard to keep it hidden. I am a mature adult, damn it! (But, please do not let mother know that I cursed.)
A pair of bronze hooves land upon the glowing blue floor of the Veins, soon followed by their matching set. I have arrived at my destination, bi-colored eyes scanning for the sloughed off old shrine of my father. His is quite obvious, currently blooming with all of the spring spirit an old statue can handle. Flowers, grasses, moss - lots of plants that should not even be growing on this island shrouding the halved shrine from view, but making it pop into your view against the cyan floors. I make quick work waltzing up to the stone, kneeling my head in gratitude as I arrive, taking care to breathe in the scent of fresh flowers.
I smile, noting with awkward innocence how beautiful the earth is, especially when it has been sculpted by my father's will. As always, the plants grow toward me, their bodies thriving off whatever regenerative energy pulsates within me. I like to think of plants as my friends, always welcoming me wherever I land.
"Hello father," I say, speaking directly to the statue. It is about this time that I feel incredibly stupid, talking to an old shrine all by myself. Nothing will make you feel more silly than talking to someone who isn't listening. "I hope that I completed my task to your satisfaction...." I draw a blank, uncertain of what I came here to ask for a moment. I ponder, head still down to my knees, thick mane falling into my face and eyes and getting caught in my horns and ultimately just making it harder to think. I try to shake the hair away from my face. This does not work, resulting only in more hair falling down into my eyes.
Rude, I think. Very rude.
"Anyway, I was hoping you could give me some direction. I feel..." I pause, thinking of what I do feel. "Lost."
Definitely lost.
@[Tandavi] (and if earthy wants to show up I don't mind, but not expecting it.)
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[O] & When we are lost.
