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11-03-2016, 08:43 PM
esinakh
It seemed that history would repeat itself for the two calves on the beach. Because, again, the small grey filly was being attacked on the beach—though this time it was the itchy, stinging plant leaves that pushed the troubled calf over her limit. And, as she was flailing and thrashing and sucuumbing to the tight vines of panic her mind wrapped around itself—
And suddenly salvation is there, stomping the attacking leaf. Rak’s warm side, Rak’s soothing whisper, Rak’s foal-fuzz tail sweeping mud and sand off of her flanks. And again, just as before, she immediately pressed her face into his larger, stockier shoulder; tucking her eyes away from a world that was simply too much for the filly. Instead, she found safety in the dark blackness of brother calf’s hide, her trembling nostrils taking in his scent.
“Sorry, Rak,” her half bleated, half croaked words were raw from terror and barely audible. And again, just as before, she blindly follows him to the sea to wash away the clay. Her mind is too full of panic to fully (yet) give thought to the idea of flying (—what if she fell into the sand?!—). Though she does slowly open her eyes they begin to wash in the rolling tide. Still, the sea has a salty scum, but at least it is cleaner than the sand and briefly soothes the burning itch on her legs. Her pale eyes dart towards the others as they come out of the sea, though her panic-numbed mind has an attention span only for brother calf.
A quiver runs through her body from both the water’s chill and the idea of flying. But if she could fly, then she would be free of earth’s filth… “Teach me flying, Rak,” her whisper was quiet, hardly heard above the waves as trepidation began to mount once more (or, perhaps, never truly left). Her pale eyes grew white-rimmed, heart beginning to race at the thought of flapping her small, half-white wings. But her face was serious as she looked at Arakh.
And suddenly salvation is there, stomping the attacking leaf. Rak’s warm side, Rak’s soothing whisper, Rak’s foal-fuzz tail sweeping mud and sand off of her flanks. And again, just as before, she immediately pressed her face into his larger, stockier shoulder; tucking her eyes away from a world that was simply too much for the filly. Instead, she found safety in the dark blackness of brother calf’s hide, her trembling nostrils taking in his scent.
“Sorry, Rak,” her half bleated, half croaked words were raw from terror and barely audible. And again, just as before, she blindly follows him to the sea to wash away the clay. Her mind is too full of panic to fully (yet) give thought to the idea of flying (—what if she fell into the sand?!—). Though she does slowly open her eyes they begin to wash in the rolling tide. Still, the sea has a salty scum, but at least it is cleaner than the sand and briefly soothes the burning itch on her legs. Her pale eyes dart towards the others as they come out of the sea, though her panic-numbed mind has an attention span only for brother calf.
A quiver runs through her body from both the water’s chill and the idea of flying. But if she could fly, then she would be free of earth’s filth… “Teach me flying, Rak,” her whisper was quiet, hardly heard above the waves as trepidation began to mount once more (or, perhaps, never truly left). Her pale eyes grew white-rimmed, heart beginning to race at the thought of flapping her small, half-white wings. But her face was serious as she looked at Arakh.
You will fight a battle
more than once to win
@Arakh and open to anyone else! Set directly after this SWP thread!
Please tag Esinakh.
