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My attempt at freeing myself of the thistles zealous embrace was not quite going as planned. In fact, it was not going as planned...at all. Nabbing the purple heads was like a cheaters version of tag and this one had reprecussions. The rules were simple and rather, in my humble opinion, one-sided. They consisted of a single line of philosophy: We tag you and...that is the game, harr harr. Oh, and the fine print within the fine print , as I discovered to my great, displeasurable chagrin, was ' Defiance of this alimighty rule results in damage points in the form of terrifically pin-point pricks to the nose or any intruding body part disturbing our personal space barrier. Good day.'
I must have looked a foal, trying to bend back enough to catch the threads of my ensnared tail, timing my reaches and tails flicks at the same moment to cleanse myself of the thorny pestilence and facing an arbitrary mixture of success and failure. The cross breeze added to my level of difficulty, lifting my tail in random directions. Had I unknowingly offended some presence? I recall Lena and Solace mentioning Gods, mayhaps one had a trickers nature and this was their greeting present. My face soured at the thought of some divine prank and with mild, irritated ire I sent my yellow-green gaze skyward. At least I had a graveyard of victims on the ground all around me. I had personally taken to crushing the few buds I captured with the flat of my cloven hoof. It seemed fair play to me.
While seeking respite from my innocent misfortune it hadn't occurred to me to keep a watch out and it certainly didn't occur to me that the voice I heard was not my own. Frankly, I talk to myself a lot so it really wasn't that uncommon for me to envision another equine so to speak, though I did remark how young this one sounded for once, asking for help. " Well, I'm Thistlebum, " I reply nonchalantly to my dream friend, reaching again for my tail, eyeing my targeted bud when a sudden, unruly gust of wind just blew it directly into my face, trading my tail for my fetlock. Withdrawing my face to pout and snort my frustration that's when I noticed I had company - real company. It was a bit of an abash moment to discover my dream friend was actually someone and sheepishly I smile. " Well, actually that's a lie, my name is Celebi." I quickly add, spilling my truename like a fleck of dust. A part of me cringed at my transgression, my careless mistake. I half expected an ominous event to happen at this moment, yet at the same time I was relieved... in some really odd way. I was in a new land after all, perhaps the dogma of my home did not apply here. Names do not hold power over oneself like they did there and so far I still felt like myself, no unwilling loyalty or puppetry that I could discern.
Briefly I observe my company, or Micha, as I recall hearing earlier, tilting my head like a curious cat. She is young my company, a year or so into her life by the look of her figure and bay. It was also apparent that she bore no horn, like Solace. An equine, that was the word. Solace was the first of this kind that I had met and how curious that I should meet another so soon. The concept was so new to me I had even asked Solace if he had broken his horn early in his youth. Oops. An ignorance I can no longer speak again at least.
Politely I bow my head in greeting and, again, I'm reminded of my burden as I sight the bare edges of a lavender hue waving in my fetlock, as if to say hello too. " As for my predicament," I say, glaring at the intruding bulb, " I'm at a stalemate." Thankfully I had gotten the reminder from my tail though few still itched on my withers and mane.
" If you don't mind." I implore, pointing to the few that remained, resigning my defeat to the coat invaders.
"blah blah blah."
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