His facade of bravery and positivity falters when he cannot name anyone. He has no friends, no one to be with... At all? Destry takes pity on the boy and explains that she has been through the same experience. Her gentle and kind soul begins to break, showing the cracks, revealing inner turmoil. I let my muzzle drop to her, press into her, comfort her. My eyelids flutter as my muzzle retreats, she turns to face me. Destry is a loving mare, one I don't deserve. She is like the rainbow after a storm (no doubt I am the storm), or a warm breeze after a cold winter. She claims that her life was like that until only a few seasons ago. Because I changed it, maybe? I feel my lips part into a toothy grin. I get the slight suspicion she speaks of me. A warmth erupts inside me, but it's not the kind that makes my hide burn with bright flames. This warmth is different, gentler.
Deciding I should speak, I clear my throat and begin. "Not long ago, I had no will to live. I did not want to continue the journey that is life. I figured that if I layed down and never once got up again, my problems would disappear, but then I would too. I remember thinking that absolutely no one would miss me, but that was a lie. I had fallen for a certain lady," I peered at Destry for a moment before my gaze returned to the metallic colored youngin. "a certain lady that felt the same way I did. She would miss me. And in the afterlife, if there truly is one, I would miss her. I would regret my decision to leave her, this world, everything. There is always someone who will miss you, someone's heart will break at the news of a death. It may seem like they don't care, or that you are not enough, but you are. Parents do not always know everything, they may not know you feel this way, or any way, really. Communication helps any relationship, I am sure of it." I felt my words leave my mouth in a gentle song-like voice. This was a voice that I seldom used. Truly, I do care what happens to the boy. Sadness is the greatest hindrance for growth and prosperity. If the boy still feels sad in a week or so, maybe I could introduce him to a certain set of twins that were also abandoned, or felt abandoned, by their young, gold-flecked, fiery mom.
Success isn't the result of spontaneous combustion.