She was having dreams more frequently now, of the windstorm and of the lightning. The feeling of having just escaped the polarizing crackles of a great and terrible energy, ripping across the skies vehemently – crying out with a thud that always broke her ears. Crumbling her senses to a numbing sting. She always woke up crying when she finally came to. Dread had pierced her heart with an awful stillness. It had meticulously set her awry, lost in the infinite faces of the clouds in each of these dreams. Sometimes she would laugh it off, because there was no reason to feel so down. There were other things to find happiness and joy in, wasn’t there?

Wasn’t there?

The young girl paused as she walked along the shore. The sight of a white, striking light beamed beyond her. Ru merely tilted her head, unaccustomed to such an appearance – it was both alien and slightly terrifying. What could it possibly be? With a thin and weary soul, she gathered what was left of her courage – and set off into the sky, meek and cautious.

The wind was still alive; it brushed against her – giggled, as she swayed briefly. ’At least, I will always have you. Or perhaps you will always have me…’ And yet her fear was unwarranted; she had never seen anything like this before – so many equine gathered in one area. The dun filly touched down, settling upon the outskirts of the group.

All of their attention appeared centered on the mare ahead. Uncertain of what to expect, she realized then that she could not identify any of her fellow companions; Ru was reluctant to stay any longer than what was expected. With a soft sigh she brought her ears ahead, waiting for the one in dark browns to speak.

The youth picks out certain things; the call to become stronger, the gaze that briefly grazes the surface, of picking out vocations – of applying one’s self to ‘something’. The rest is pushed back. There is nothing more to the youth than the raw emotions that threaten to spill out, and the churning of thoughts provoked by the necessary need for able bodies to do something. She allows her singed muzzle to fall, just as her eyes break from the mare to the earth. Ru couldn’t help the crawling sensation that she was indeed lonely and apart from everyone around her. She was not yet ‘family’. And wonders, if she can make anything out of herself; or if it was too late to make an impression at all.

No, not impression. A living, a desire and the courage to pursue it.

Where was it? Was it… truly here, with them or out there. Her coral eyes shift from the ground to above the horizon. Longing swelling in their depths.