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EVEcuriosity killed the cat
Breathe.
Birdsong stirred the girl from slumber, a cacophony of melodic screeches that seemed to her muddled mind to be quite sudden. She stretched out on the forest floor, kicking her hind legs a bit and rolling to lay upright, blinking dazedly in the bright mid-afternoon sunlight. For a moment, the blurry, soft gold-orange washed pleasantly across the trees that surrounded her on all sides tricked her into thinking that she was home; for a moment, she forgot what she had done. A moment for her vision to right itself, and she realized that she was no longer in the Wildwood – these trees, compared to the behemoths of her youth, were short and spindly and quite green and plain, lacking the ethereal peach glow and rich, warm autumn hues that she had grown accustomed to. For all their shortcomings, they brought a broad grin to her face, and she didn’t even bother to repress a series of manic giggles, her entire body twitching and squirming with glee. She was free!
Eve stumbled to her hooves, shaking and tottering like a newborn standing for the first time; her legs felt dull and fuzzy, covered in the crawling sensation that came with too much pressure on them for too long. Her wings flared out to keep her balance, flailing primaries snapping a few small twigs from the branches. For a moment, she felt lightheaded and cramped, stomach lurching, but, thankfully, the sensation passed quickly. She tucked her wings to her side, and, with another euphoric giggle, gave her surroundings a quick once-over. She was in the middle of a forest of some sort. That was not especially odd, though this forest was nothing like the Wildwood. In the Wildwood, trees grew so high that you couldn’t even see their tops, and the entire forest seemed to be perpetually washed in creams and golds, as timeless and impossibly beautiful as most of the creatures that inhabited it. It would move around, from time to time, but the Wildwood never really aged or changed. It was ephemeral and fickle and ancient all at once, and the days dribbled by in a sticky amber haze, each and every one practically identical to all the ones that came before it. Creatures wild and big as the sky would wander by, gods and monsters side-by-side among great, knotted roots; the air hummed with their magicks, thick and suffocating if you thought too hard about it. She’d learned quickly that the secret to the Wildlings was their carelessness – they never thought about much of anything. Here, the air was not so high-strung, as in the moments before lightning struck, but it was every bit as oppressive. The air felt quiet and stagnant. She couldn’t feel any magick at all.
Lulled into absentmindedness, she set forth to wander with no particular destination in mind. It wasn’t as though she had the faintest notion of where she was, and it didn’t seem that anyone was around to ask, and, in all honesty, she hadn’t left her home behind forever with the intent to squander precious time to explore. Any misgivings she might have had – or fear of leaving, or homesickness, or worry for her mother – were left behind in the Wildwood. Now was the time to search for what she’d been seeking her entire life, whatever that happened to be.
The little mare titled her head, still grinning foolishly. Well, perhaps finding her purpose was a bit much to bite off immediately; she’d have to settle for finding her way out of the woods, for now. (She wanted to see more than trees for once, new and exciting as these spindly little mimicries were. She wanted to see deserts and waterfalls and mountains and oceans and swamps and rivers and gardens and plains and absolutely everything else the world had to offer.) Prancing along her merry way, she nonetheless kept her ears perked and her gaze alert. She was a stranger in a strange land – invigorating as the idea of exploring and meeting creatures that weren’t her mother or Wildlings was, Eve knew that it was best to stay vigilant, at least for the moment. Wouldn’t her mother be proud of her, all grown up and seeing the world for herself?
(In all actuality, Eve knew that she would be furious. She probably was furious. She decided not to think about it.)
Birdsong stirred the girl from slumber, a cacophony of melodic screeches that seemed to her muddled mind to be quite sudden. She stretched out on the forest floor, kicking her hind legs a bit and rolling to lay upright, blinking dazedly in the bright mid-afternoon sunlight. For a moment, the blurry, soft gold-orange washed pleasantly across the trees that surrounded her on all sides tricked her into thinking that she was home; for a moment, she forgot what she had done. A moment for her vision to right itself, and she realized that she was no longer in the Wildwood – these trees, compared to the behemoths of her youth, were short and spindly and quite green and plain, lacking the ethereal peach glow and rich, warm autumn hues that she had grown accustomed to. For all their shortcomings, they brought a broad grin to her face, and she didn’t even bother to repress a series of manic giggles, her entire body twitching and squirming with glee. She was free!
Eve stumbled to her hooves, shaking and tottering like a newborn standing for the first time; her legs felt dull and fuzzy, covered in the crawling sensation that came with too much pressure on them for too long. Her wings flared out to keep her balance, flailing primaries snapping a few small twigs from the branches. For a moment, she felt lightheaded and cramped, stomach lurching, but, thankfully, the sensation passed quickly. She tucked her wings to her side, and, with another euphoric giggle, gave her surroundings a quick once-over. She was in the middle of a forest of some sort. That was not especially odd, though this forest was nothing like the Wildwood. In the Wildwood, trees grew so high that you couldn’t even see their tops, and the entire forest seemed to be perpetually washed in creams and golds, as timeless and impossibly beautiful as most of the creatures that inhabited it. It would move around, from time to time, but the Wildwood never really aged or changed. It was ephemeral and fickle and ancient all at once, and the days dribbled by in a sticky amber haze, each and every one practically identical to all the ones that came before it. Creatures wild and big as the sky would wander by, gods and monsters side-by-side among great, knotted roots; the air hummed with their magicks, thick and suffocating if you thought too hard about it. She’d learned quickly that the secret to the Wildlings was their carelessness – they never thought about much of anything. Here, the air was not so high-strung, as in the moments before lightning struck, but it was every bit as oppressive. The air felt quiet and stagnant. She couldn’t feel any magick at all.
Lulled into absentmindedness, she set forth to wander with no particular destination in mind. It wasn’t as though she had the faintest notion of where she was, and it didn’t seem that anyone was around to ask, and, in all honesty, she hadn’t left her home behind forever with the intent to squander precious time to explore. Any misgivings she might have had – or fear of leaving, or homesickness, or worry for her mother – were left behind in the Wildwood. Now was the time to search for what she’d been seeking her entire life, whatever that happened to be.
The little mare titled her head, still grinning foolishly. Well, perhaps finding her purpose was a bit much to bite off immediately; she’d have to settle for finding her way out of the woods, for now. (She wanted to see more than trees for once, new and exciting as these spindly little mimicries were. She wanted to see deserts and waterfalls and mountains and oceans and swamps and rivers and gardens and plains and absolutely everything else the world had to offer.) Prancing along her merry way, she nonetheless kept her ears perked and her gaze alert. She was a stranger in a strange land – invigorating as the idea of exploring and meeting creatures that weren’t her mother or Wildlings was, Eve knew that it was best to stay vigilant, at least for the moment. Wouldn’t her mother be proud of her, all grown up and seeing the world for herself?
(In all actuality, Eve knew that she would be furious. She probably was furious. She decided not to think about it.)
but satisfaction brought it back
-Please tag Eve! - No permission is required to do anything to Eve short of permanently maiming/killing her
