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06-29-2012, 12:12 AM
Little defective colt skids to a halt when the sound of the companion's heartbeat goes silent, and is replaced once more with the senseless chattering of his father's keepers. The bridle tugs at him and pulls him away from the wood as if living itself; he realizes then he himself is caught upon a branch. And yet, he does not doubt the sentience of the adornment, for its grip seems too tight across his chest where it hangs ragged. Today is not the day it falls across his face as it is meant to; today is not the day he realizes what it is for and where it is from. On such a day, the voices will join together before fading into silence. Today, now, the voices are louder than anything he has ever before heard. Each one cuts through the sounds of nature and pierces the thin wall of his senses and sanity. He does not search for the source of the screams, he knows it is a part of him, and he must find the shell left in the wake of the heartbeat's end. He ventures further into the forest, firm legs carrying him across paths known only to his mother and brothers. The heartbeat resumes, and he realizes with a sudden jolt that it never really ceased- that it was never really there. The shadows in the corners of the wood seem to fade as light penetrates the canopy, and with it disappears the illusion of the heartbeat. The voices decrease their volume to a whisper, and in the almost silence, he hears the faint whimper of a puppy. |
