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11-20-2014, 05:30 AM
Didn't you calm my fears with a Cheshire Cat smile?
Spice was a wanderer.
Ever since she was born, she always wanted to go somewhere else. Though she didn't know, she was just like her father. Always wanting an adventure. He had not left her mother, he had been on an adventure. Wasn't that excusable for not being there for your daughter's birth? Who knew.
Spice was a jumpy girl, just as her mother was when she was her age. But being Spice, kept to the inside of the fence, she was not allowed out of it. Her mother didn't want her to see the world just yet, keeping her hidden away, the only beautiful light they saw was the stars in the dark night sky, glimmering in her mothers eyes as they looked up each night. Pointing out shapes or new or different ones, telling them to get back into their rightful spots.
Spice would sigh, her breath warm as it clashed with her mother's skin. This meant story time. Her mother would then tell her the stories of snow and sea and wonder. She would tell the story of how Alice fell down that rabbit hole. And how she found wonderland. Though her mother didn't say anything about if Alice was a horse or not, Spice decided to see her as a rabbit. And interesting form. She had never seen a rabbit before, only in her mind. But she imagined it as a blue color, like the sky in the daylight. It's eyes reflecting the stars, even if there was no stars to look at, that was what resided in the eyes of the rabbit. It would be taller with a kind smile, a small muzzle and stand on four feet. Her mother had told her that rabbits where good at hopping, so she suggested that as well. Hopping feet. She didn't know what they would like but she would imagine something interesting.
The girl smiled at her odd thoughts, though she loved them, she agreed with herself that she seemed crazy. The definition of crazy was someone who didn't look like they knew what they where doing, living a life of thoughtfulness, although fear of which they will be eaten alive by something that only they can see. Well, that was what Spice's mother had told her on that one particularly starry night. She had listened to her stories for half the night, it felt. Spice loved that night they shared. It was wonderfully perfect. And she wished she had her mother then.
The regret weighing her down, stopping her in her tracks. She was in a white-covered wood. Every time she took a breath a puff of cloud would rise up in front of her. She whinnied happily. Continuing to breath, she watched the cloud appear and then disappear over and over. She liked this. She liked this soft crush of snow under her hooves, she liked the chilling feeling of cold on her body. She liked how it stung her eyes if she kept the open for too long. She liked the way...She liked the way that she felt when she was standing in this stuff.
It was perfect right there in that moment. She felt like she could stay there forever to savor the perfect moment.
Her mother wasn't just making that all up.
