.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
08-24-2016, 05:00 PM
She was restless.
Ever-long legs carried her swiftly now, through the woods of the Edge. She knew the pattern of the trees and could move with some decent speed, though every now and again there would be a root that would make her stumble. But all the weaving, the pacing, it was once new and exciting but now it had lost its excitement. She was thankful she felt she knew the woods so well, but now she longed for something different…
So she’d branched out, moved away from the Edge. She went where it was quiet, but kept by the cliffs, as she enjoyed the cool breeze that rose up from the surrounding sea. Here she found the Secret Grove, though she could argue that it didn’t much feel like a secret, as she could hear the soft murmurs of distant conversations when she picked her way through the Grove. But, then again, most everything in this strange world felt like a secret. It was all still so new to her, and she wondered if she’d ever fit in, if she’d even unveil all of its secrets for herself, if she’d ever want to.
She still waited with held breath for her brother. He had to uncover his own secrets, she reminded herself. Perhaps it was a good thing that he had not come to her yet. Perhaps he was still looking for their parents.
(Perhaps he was dead.)
The black mare quieted the thoughts in her head, tried her best to replace them with the conversations of her current neighbors. Long ears — because every bit of her is so, so very long — swivel, as if she were turning the dial on a radio in hopes of picking up a clear broadcast.
That was when she heard the words of a particular Guardian. The voice mentioned a god, and Ravel felt a newfound sense of excitement. Curiosity bubbled up inside of her and she picked her way gingerly towards the voice.
The narrow mare drew close, but stopped. Broken eyes, shining milky grey against the inky black of her coat, stare past (and perhaps beyond) the Guardian. Her voice was raspy but soft, but she hesitated. Then, simply, “Hello.”
Ever-long legs carried her swiftly now, through the woods of the Edge. She knew the pattern of the trees and could move with some decent speed, though every now and again there would be a root that would make her stumble. But all the weaving, the pacing, it was once new and exciting but now it had lost its excitement. She was thankful she felt she knew the woods so well, but now she longed for something different…
So she’d branched out, moved away from the Edge. She went where it was quiet, but kept by the cliffs, as she enjoyed the cool breeze that rose up from the surrounding sea. Here she found the Secret Grove, though she could argue that it didn’t much feel like a secret, as she could hear the soft murmurs of distant conversations when she picked her way through the Grove. But, then again, most everything in this strange world felt like a secret. It was all still so new to her, and she wondered if she’d ever fit in, if she’d even unveil all of its secrets for herself, if she’d ever want to.
She still waited with held breath for her brother. He had to uncover his own secrets, she reminded herself. Perhaps it was a good thing that he had not come to her yet. Perhaps he was still looking for their parents.
(Perhaps he was dead.)
The black mare quieted the thoughts in her head, tried her best to replace them with the conversations of her current neighbors. Long ears — because every bit of her is so, so very long — swivel, as if she were turning the dial on a radio in hopes of picking up a clear broadcast.
That was when she heard the words of a particular Guardian. The voice mentioned a god, and Ravel felt a newfound sense of excitement. Curiosity bubbled up inside of her and she picked her way gingerly towards the voice.
The narrow mare drew close, but stopped. Broken eyes, shining milky grey against the inky black of her coat, stare past (and perhaps beyond) the Guardian. Her voice was raspy but soft, but she hesitated. Then, simply, “Hello.”
★ harm her if it pleases you, but death is not ready for her yet
