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The bird had finally noticed that she was not one to steal her eggs, it seemed, as their presence had turned into one of enjoyment - or at least how she believed it. Shadow sighed and the tigermare let her last couple of tensed muscles relax. She had dropped down, picking at the grass as the noise of scratching against wood formed her background symphony. She couldn't help but feel a sting of pity for the old dead Oak, whose little wrapping it had had left must have now been scraped off mostly by the butt-muscles of the coolness-enjoying shadow. The tigerstriped mare had let her head fall in the grass once again. "Hmmm... That's interesting." she murmured content with the volume like that of the chirping of the birds that flew over. The silhouettes of the overhanging branches filled her view as she lay in the wavering shadows that the swaying leaves created. Although she had noticed the pegasus' shrug, the burgundy shades in Maren's eyes were left silent, and thinking. So much cultures there must be, coming together in one place.
The tigermare's body rolled up so that she could look at the Shadow.
"If I have, I don't recall"
The thought that she might had, excited her for childish reasons. She would've loved to show this mare - anyone - her birthplace, but it was far away; Too much a distance to travel within all seasons - wingless, that was. That made the idea slightly unrealistic. Besides, as much as she liked to brag, she didn't really wanted to go back.
The Black's next question made the mare roll back on her back, made her eyes' sight contain branches, silhouetted leaves and sky once again.
'Home'
She'd lost the concept of it a long time ago, which was silly, really. It was meant to be so obvious, simple and straight-forward. And it was - when the words were spoken by a mouth. But when she thought about it, all the possibilities of its meaning got tangled up with each other. Why it was so hard to grasp its meaning made her only wonder. Is it caused by the importance we ourselves put in it? Interesting.
"Is this your home, Shadow?", the tigermare asked after a moment where only the forest spoke out-loud.
Then, after some more slacking seconds, she pulled her stiff pearl-white striped body off the tickling grass and slowly walked over to the tree. Its loosened bark hang from its flanks, crippled in her vision, and just for a little moment she imagined that it was still alive; colored in lush contrasts along with most of the rest of the forest. Swaying flexible with the wind, instead of squeaking at every push. She looked up at it. "For me this is my home.", telling it more to the dusted trunk than her company. She barely even noticed how confusing the way she said the words could be interpreted and her vague pose must look. But as her wings laid stretched, still beside her ears, she only saw an Oak.
My faith.
@[Shadow] || Notes: ... || Wordcount: 511 || "talking" ||
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