His laugh made me too happy, like I was getting high or some stupid shit like that, and I couldn’t stop the idiot grin from spreading back across my face, racing in place like it had just been waiting for the perfect chance to strike after all. Okay, so he forgave me. And his owl was fine and we were still square and as long as we kept our paws out of each other’s hair I guess we’d stay that way.

It shouldn’t have been anything to get ashamed at being happy about—his forgiveness, this game we were playing with thistles of all things. It shouldn’t have mattered that my ghost sort of lifted a little from the dark cloud of stuff that had attacked me only minutes ago. The issue was the way it kept rising, my chest and throat filling up with suffocating bubbles that came from both the sky and the ground where Leos had dropped and started rolling the thistles off. Trying, anyway. The smirk I had pulled into something wicked as I watched him tumble around on the ground. “Nah, it’s too late,” I said with a flick of my too-short tail, “now you’ll just be itchy and green.” I remembered the last time I had gotten thistles on myself (on accident)—and how itchy that left ass-cheek had been all during that day, and how some kid had come up to me, cussing a fire-storm and exploding the goddamned trees wherever she looked, wherever I pointed—

Lucky charms, I thought suddenly, imagining green streaks all across Leos’ backside, clashing with the purple barbs that had dotted his chest, and I couldn’t stop the ripple of a laugh that snaked its way out of my throat before I could even analyze the stupid thought I was laughing at. Then I snorted, turning away from where Leos lay on the ground; I started pacing, too keyed up to act on the impulse to lay down there with him—too giddy in a way I couldn’t stand to look him in the eye. I didn’t understand why I was so excited, and I couldn’t just keep blaming it on you, like I was all your fault that bubbles kept sneaking up my throat to try and choke me. My eyes sort of drifted into the sky, vague and sightless, because I wasn’t seeing you even if I knew you were somewhere up there, having a blast ‘n everthing.

I could still feel it too, if I focused on that corner of my mind. I could see with your eyes if I wanted to, feel your heart beating in your own chest, feel the wind whipping through the owl talons and right into your gaping, star-struck mouth. I couldn’t stop the shiver running up my spine every time I dared to share those kinds of experiences with you—because on one hand it left me too vulnerable, too open to the wide open plane that lay outside the confines of my skull. But then again, I trusted you to show me something amazing, even though you were just some tiny shit who had way too much fun seeing me embarrassed.

“…It’s so weird,” I found myself saying, barely coming back to myself enough to realize that my words were directed at Lee, wherever he was, “It’s like…his egg just came out of nowhere for me to find and…when he hatched--“ my ears pinned and twitched, the words failing the thoughts that wanted out, “—it’s like…I mean, I dunno. Like he could see right through me and I could look right into him and he’s….”

I bit my lip thoughtfully, and suddenly I was turning back on Lee, shooting him questions like bullets again. “Was it like that with you?” I asked, tentative and prodding, flailing with concept that I still didn’t understand, “When they hatched for you—were they…are they always there, in your head?” I’ve always known some horses to have these lil’ ass creatures following them around sometimes—my thoughts turned to Tinek and how he used to drape all silvery and badass across my Ma’s back—but I’d never had reason to believe there was something deeper and sightless that was going on between the two of them. I just always assumed they were bros.

My ear cocked suddenly and my gaze went unfocused—because I sensed a shift in you. Your happiness hadn’t abated and the cheer you were feeling kept spilling out in waves, but I could feel your little body start to squirm in the owl’s grasp, insistent and urgent, and I could feel the new sensation that our mind was sending me: you wanted to come back to me. And I didn’t need to really look for an explanation, because I was thinking it to: that this was the furthest you’d ever been away from me and maybe it was great for a while but there was a pull that neither of us could ignore. My eyes swept this way and that, looking for your shadow—where you might be zooming about, wondering, vaguely, if I still needed to catch you or not.


[oops figured I should try to get back to this lol]





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