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08-20-2014, 11:34 PM
 ranjiri & ryuu so while you're outside looking in, describing what you see, remember what you're looking at is me At times I felt that somehow I was letting momma down, speaking so little. I knew she wanted the best for me, wanted me to have friends and be able to run and play like all the other foals. At times I would lay up at night staring at my hooves, wondering if I could simply wish them better with the power of my will. It never happened, but I never stopped trying. Maybe I didn't want to go play with the foals, far preferring the quiet love of my momma to accompany me and fill my days, but if it made momma smile I'd do anything. Not that she ever made me, knowing I would run until my hooves split for her, but I could tell she wished to take away the affliction I'd been born with. I didn't know how to comfort her, not when my words always seemed to be stuck upon some sort of sap in my throat, unable to emerge to wrap around her. I felt like a failure of a son, but her reassurances always were quick to come the moment any expression of doubt came upon my face. She had learned to read me, and it was the highest comfort I could ever achieve, especially knowing she'd practically given up speech for my sake. We had so few friends, it was mostly just momma and Cera and I. But I didn't mind. No matter how much I'd love to just lay by the water beneath momma's wing, she always presses the importance of exercise, and though my hooves always protest I know she is right. Momma may not think she's always right, but I trust in everything she says and does, and in her I find no flaws that do not hold me at their center. We've learned, together, how to deal with my hooves to the best of our abilities. So I am content, as much as I am able to be, when I walk alongside momma and explore the desert that seems so constant and similar to so many, but which is so varied and colorful to my eyes as an inhabitant. Momma's side is warm and her scent comforting as I limp beside her, and I love her every moment a thousand times more, for the things she does without a second thought; shortening her stride for me, casting her shadow upon my coal canvas to hide me from the sun. Every time I believe I cannot love her more, I am proved wrong. Belly full and hooves aching on the warm sand, I breathed in the old, nostalgic scent of saltwater, and gave a tiny smile towards momma. It reminded me of when she'd found me, collapsed and crying pitifully upon the beach of the Blue. Recalling the experience I moved closer to her until our skin brushed, tucking my cheek to the curve between her breast and shoulder. I was unbothered by the movement of her legs, as I had learned to walk beside her in such a close manner long ago, as if attached. Her words beckon me forward and I am ever obedient, stumbling forward on burning hooves that have been pushed to a set of limits I feel forever chained by. And though I hesitate as the water edges toward me with each wave, tiny knees trembling with fearful consideration, momma's voice is there to swaddle me in warmth and protection from where she stands knee deep. If momma trusts it, then I trust it to, and I step into it without another second of doubt. The water is indeed nice, both cool and pleasantly soothing, more so than the water of the Oasis with the added salt content. I give a pleased sigh, one momma has come to separate from the others, and smile up at her shyly as I waddle and wade towards her. She is far taller than me, than I will ever be, and the waves kiss my tiny chest as I come to rest my cheek upon her flank. Before her greeting registers, I feel hope begin to bloom in my breast. Maybe I can show momma that I can be a normal foal? No matter what my hooves try to do to impede me? So I tentatively dip my muzzle into the water and fling it up to splash at her weakly, eyes and lips smiling despite my silence. Only when her salutations touch my ears I stop, sinking into myself. Be silent, be still. Don't be seen. The adults are having an important conversation right now. All rules drilled into my head, stopping my playfulness in its tracks as I slide to her flank with full intent to hide beneath her wing. Only when I look over to whom she's spoken to do I gasp in surprise. "Father," I clarified, voice shaky and a little scared as I turned to look up at momma. Please don't leave me. Father was father, of course, but momma was my world. I didn't want her to think that just because he was a parent as well that she'd have to give me up, because I would never willingly leave her side.  |
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