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She trekked for a few days. The journey itself never aimed to be an issue, but the scenic route took its toll on the mare. Weary of change, she awaited something to water down the continuously breeding fear within her breast. But it was odd for her to feel this way when parts of Helovia had not transformed to something foreign - unrecognizable. Helovia was once that to her, but it was time which caused change to become less of an enemy. Sometimes she wished to recall the times the days went through their metamorphosis; her,too, from a mere filly to a mare. Each day filled itself with an event she never encountered, or had. This mare favored routine, and anything which broke the cycle would certainly cause discord.
Regardless of the flora she encountered, or Birdsong's melody of a season teeming with life, her spirits were low. She hadn't a clue, no, not at all. Her eyes saw: envisioned what she saw. She saw springtime, and it was a clear sign she must continue on to wherever she felt more favored by. Instinct growled its reminder, its voice a mimic of hers. Reminding her to look for herbs -- herbs? what were herbs? -- something she felt obliged to by the voice. She assumed herbs were flowers. She shuddered when it finally passed her in realization. Uprooting them? No, no, no! Disappointed, she attempted to ignore the voice - to never harm the flowers she called her own children. It would be like separating a foal from its mother's milk - a need for survival. Silently, she wept for the words continued to pound into her skull.
Her eyes peeled away, bleary, teary-eyed. The sight itself was nostalgic in spite of how short-lived her time was on this grassy terrain. A reminder, but of someone she had not yet acquainted herself entirely. She wondered if the filly thought her strange and fled from her presence. The thought was negative, but it was her typical reasoning for the silence from those she had encountered. Busy, perhaps. She decided thoughtfully. Busy equines. She approached hills and the bushes latched onto the grass and earth. The mountains near, and she still lacked some form of piety even as she felt a tingle of divinity brush against her skin - as the sun or the wind. Natural. It was nature, of course. A dream of an honor meeting with a deity was far-fetched. The dream faded away before she explored with only her neck and head. The mare noticed another. Their voice carried; faint, but sad. Her head tilted to the side, curious, but shy of another presence. Still, she approached cautious and her body tensed, calmness melting away.
She barely heard the last of her words, but Florabella's throat closed upon a reminder of her own questions to nothing. 'Why? Why me?' The words were familiar and a reminder of her self-pity. It wasn't triggering, no, but she couldn't help but rack with sobs herself. Understanding. Pitying both herself and this unicorn mare.
"talk talk talk "
@[Abishia]
//Feel free to let me know if the font color is a nuisance \o/
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