Bellisma

It had been such a long time since she had ventured... anywhere, let alone somewhere another equid might see her. But here she stood, hooves tentatively planted in the dirt, and though her heart raced she swore to herself she would not move. So long she had lived in fear, the claws of it latched into her hide like a parasite, leeching the life from her. But today, she decided: No more.

The wind picked at her mane, the lover-like caress nearly enough to cause her to pull back, but she was barely visible as it was and she needed to find a home; a place to call hers, her family, somewhere she belonged. The foliage already nearly completely enshrouded her, and making any move in the reverse would take away all chances of finding this one thing she had always longed for, no matter how many times Rrazmik, or Edalet, or any of them used her. In spite of them, her desires had only increased for a family; a group wherein she could find peace, despite being nothing more than a lowly pony. They had reminded her time and time again of her unworth, and though she could outlast any of those bastards in a stretch of desert, she could never shake that one ironclad fact. How could she possibly be seen as anything more than she was when this land was riddled with beings so glamorous she felt traitorous even gazing upon them?

Bellisma shook her head with a snort, chasing the thoughts from her mind. They were destructive, and exactly the reason she had holed up in nook after nook - but never a cave - to keep away from anyone who might make her feel like less than she was. But what was the point of that, when she was essentially a race rat? That was her ability - her "magic" - and nothing more. Her forelock fell into her eyes as her muzzle lowered to the ground, lids closing momentarily in a desperate attempt to find the Bellisma that had found such resolve that she dared waiting near enough the path that anyone could come by and see her. Sighing heavily, she lifted her gaze. You can do this, she reminded herself, You've been alone long enough.

The quiet plod of hooves caught her ear, and out of pure instinct she hurried backwards. No! Stay! she scolded, gaze wildly searching the path. The sound drew nearer, and eventually, though her limbs shook, she pulled herself forward once more. She only allowed her emerald irises to peer upwards long enough to note that someone was, in fact, coming down this particular road; beyond that, they were downcast, never wanting to give off the impression that she felt worthy of such a meaningful interaction.