There is something undeniably comforting in sound, large and small, soft and loud. Perhaps for many it represented finality, truth, existence on a plain where otherwise we might wander beneath an empty chasm of gravity. This sound was unexpected, but not unwelcome. I turn my nose toward the disturbance, eyes following suit in order to see who it was that had stumbled upon me. Suddenly
sound was not the right word, this needed something stronger, something... personal. There was no explanation for the pulse of excitement that crawled across painted skin, the dance of tired hooves upon the pine-mold. To believe that after all these past months of wandering, lost and alone, hurting and aching for what could never be - such a lovely sight would lie waiting at the end of that nasty tunnel.
"
Syrena!" I gush, for it was the only respectful thing you could call it. There was a moment of sheer bliss as something bright and lively ruptured across the surface of my heart. A feeling I had nearly forgotten (and so young too.) wormed its way through the darkness, spreading veins of joy and exhilaration as it jerked fiercely on my heartstrings.
I could not begin to understand how this mare brought such unmitigated glee upon me. How the very expression of her typical, mundane presence, could elicit such longing from within. Her blue coat was as I remembered, albeit hazy and faded in my minds eye, I knew it to be she, no doubt about it. "
Oh Syrena, Syrena!" like a small child I thrust myself at the mare, who yet held weight over my growing figure (not for long though). No manner of restraint could withhold the desperation that held me, gripped me tight and pulled me from perdition.
"Talk."
@Syrena
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