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The landscape was becoming monotonous; the same sound of her own hoof-beats was becoming akin to that of a lullaby, and the eerie melody of screeching timber and vacant birdsong was doing nothing but lending voice to her own improvised melody:
It rumbles the bones; Oh! Paradoxical pain! Wash away this contempt; allow the tears to fall freely,
freely,
freely...
Sharp as a tack she might be, Cal was starting to have those senile episodes associated to old age. The lullaby of the forest was calming her on a profound level. The forest before her became a fuzzy backdrop of white before her heavy lidded eyes, and her mind buzzed pleasantly with a whirl of those softer, tender thoughts that flitted in the corners of her mind. The musty scent of wet tinder and the musky aroma of unseen critters created a vibrant mental picture that Cal vaguely acknowledged; the ever-so-gentle breeze that tickled the sparse bristles of her mane was like the nips of those long forgotten studs and ladies she knew and loved; the sudden spike of warm horse flesh against her nostrils reminded Cal of those little rascals that ran between her forelegs in playful abandon, the whereabouts of those now-grown vagrants now unknown by their aged mother. Cal's inner peace and lapse of awareness was so profound that she failed to acknowledge the young unicorn mare to whom that warmish musk belonged to.
"You sing lovely words."
Mmmhmm Cal thought in vague agreement; she continued her slow, ambled pace through the forest, not quite realizing that she had company in her midst. The horse-scent was becoming stronger-- and now there were noises, too, the unmistakable melody of hooves against the loam-littered forest floor. And still the older mare continued onward, lost in her own hazy memories and pleasantly content with them.
"Forgive me, but where do you come from? Can you tell me your stories?"
Cal heard the words, and flicked her ears to-and-fro in amusement. "Stories," she breathed with ugly sarcasm, the words coming out in a cloud of white, misty vapor. Her eye-lids fell even lower in her musings. "What stories can I tell that time cannot? They're too numerous to recall and dictate in one moon cycle. I've seen....many things, horrid things. Glorious things. Though the only way to see that horror and that glory is to witness--"
It was as though the bubble that had ensnared her mind burst violently; Cal's eyes snapped open and she paused mid-step, finally connecting all the pieces of her sense's information. The smell of horse flesh and the sound of cloven hooves-- and sure enough, there she was, a tall and elegant thing with a pearly-white horn and a mane and tail clearly tipped in blood. Cal gave a heavy snort out of minor surprise. She must have been slipping badly to have missed a spectre like that. How....embarrasing.
"Oh," Cal said rather blankly, blinking her eyes rapidly, "Oh gee. I am sorry girl, I ain't mean to blank out like that on yeh." She shook her head to get the last of the cobwebs out of her mind, and shuffled her wings slightly. "*Ahem*, yes," she said, clearing her throat, "I ain't intrudin' on yer herd-lands, am I?" The sudden paranoid thought had occurred to the old mare, and trespassing into someone's homeland was the last thing she wanted to do. So much trouble. So much drama.
"I really am an Old Fart, aren't I? Heh Heh.."
(OOC: Long post is long o.o)
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Weary Feet, Gotta Keep Truckin' It [Open]
