For Ru, the tension growing between the two mares was a familiar occurrence. Not that she, the child, enjoyed participating in them. In fact, she seemed to be far removed from the exchange. As the adults spoke of her, she felt strangely detached from it. Perhaps most of it never really registered in her mind, and after a while it all seemed to blur. The words ‘inappropriate behavior’, ‘dumb’, and ‘speak’ began to dance in the air – haphazardly within the grasp of Ru’s mind. While they were spoken with intention, they brought a sense of unease to the youth; these things she could not control.

The filly however was stubborn in her thinking, these situations did not control who she was. The idea that she might have been broken, or cursed – did not dictate how other people might treat her. And all in the same, perhaps blindly – because she did not know any better – she thought the world was sunny to a point. And so far, as far she could interpret she was not bothered by either of their presence. Perhaps time might make something more critical of the girl, but in the meantime she was far too opptimistic having found people in her journey. Each, offering the possibility of a home.

Maren’s response caught her attention as she spoke to the silver clad mare. Ru wasn’t sure what it really meant; this talk of cruel and the undeserved. If cruelness was truly the issue, Ru would’ve blamed her mother for leaving her (problem solved?). If there was someone that both the mares might disagree on, they could argue about her instead.

Ru would have to footnote the thought, because that would have to wait for another day. This day, however, was still here and everything was very much alive – despite the snow. Alive and asleep, Ru thought happily. And pushed the arguments and the invisible, heated lines to meet the challenge ahead of her.

The challenge of a name.

Preferring that they would play nicely with each other when she returned, she was not deterred by such happenings and remained exuberant about the roots. Bright, pastel blues watched as December dipped her head to take a whiff of the cold dirt. She grinned as December regarded her with kind eyes.  The same warmth that – moments ago – would have caused those eyes to spring into a leaky storm cloud.

She triumphantly stomped her forelimb with a sharp nod. The child neighed briefly, sharp and high pitched. Thinking quite simply, YES! Yet despite December’s correct answer, the part about /roo/ of /roots/ that sounded like her name was going to be a far more complicated matter... Her eyes, as clear and open as they were to the world around her became mixed, and clouded with thought.

Saying Ru in itself was not an option. Even if she wanted to, it just – never happened. Perhaps she could copy the sound; listening carefully for the word roots to spring out from December’s lips. But time rarely offered the chance to bark out these sounds. And rather then fumble in front the pair, she could not show her weakness so blatantly in the wild.

Sunny to a point, right?

'You're not joking around are you?'

Her ears fluttered forward to the sound of Maren’s voice. She shook her head seriously, a very matter of fact: of course not. As if it had been the only adult thing she had achieved in their presence. But by the Creator’s hand, a smile appeared on those frosted lips! She smiled in return, and hummed from the bottom of her throat. Lest she react too much, and that smile would dissolve from this existence entirely.

But there was more for Maren to say, and the girl listened steadily. Her little tail wiggled in delight at the thought of sailing. But there was more to consider other than her reward. Essentially, there was this thing that Ru was ‘supposed to do’.

It was this same thing that ushered her out of the wilderness, forgoing the search for her family and ‘moving on’. For one to be independent, one must make and take choices. Would her family come one day, looking for her?

Perhaps, but very unlikely; and for all her strength, if one could even call it strength, she would give anything to have them find her right then and there. But this was the dream, and a fallacy that did not encourage the sort of life Ru wanted. Such a life was dead. There was no living in the past.

Was there?

She sighed and regarded the dappled mare, December. Her serious face cracked into a small grin. She would remember December – she would learn from her. People were more than their facades. And imagine the stories she could tell? And the places they could go together, being sure that the strong mare could protect her indefinitely.

But life was rarely secure, wasn’t it?

Unsure, and slightly more tentative on the offer she regarded Maren and made a curt nod. Her gaze did not last long on the mare with the winged crown, as it swept back to December. The child’s gaze became steady as she forced a smile she hoped appeared confident and sure. That somehow she would be fine. Perhaps they would see each other one day. Helovia, this land, didn’t seem so big. She would find her, and hopefully she would receive her with the same warmth.

Because it was addictive and painful all at the same time; but surely it was worth more to bear than forget entirely.

The child made to bow her head, her wings stretching horizontally and slightly at an angle to the ground. So that the ends of her feathers at the back splayed out briefly. It was meant to be a ‘thank-you’, more than a simple ‘adieu’. She raised her head, regarded Carl by stretching out her neck to view more of him. And cheekily stuck her tongue out with a giggle. She looked back to find Maren already on her way; but at the time waiting on her. Hopping where she stood she issued out a light-hearted rumble from her mouth. Tossed her head and turned to follow Maren. Making an effort to trot up to her side.