it’s in the stars
it’s been written in the scars on our hearts
we’re not broken just bent

The air was thick and balmy; a pleasant relief from even the bitter Orangemoon nights Druid had spent alone in the Threshold forest. He placed his petite hooves forward, one after the other, and the physical contact between the stallion and the foal which had offered the appaloosa such security over the past few days, was severed. At first he did not notice, because there was no touch of forlorn coldness against his lukewarm hide. Instead he dabbled bravely forward across the yielding, lush rug of grass. There was not the strength in his brittle bones to play, but the invigorating taste of mineral and moisture against the sensitive hairs in his nostrils tempted such thoughts through his imageless mind. Druid lowered his dark rough muzzle once again, this time toying with the dense green tussock which his twitching lips found.

The ruffling flutter of feathered wings triggered the foal to fling his head upwards. He recognized the sound, though could not pick the cause. Lifting his face into the humid air he searched in vain for the scent of another, but the sticky clammy air choked any sign of company. A startled snort burst through Druids nose as he turned peering through his blackened world for the familiar stallion; the colt could not find him. “ Druid” Came the voice, familiar and earnest, and the young horse stepped towards it with flickering, attentive ears. “Two of my friends are coming. Can you smell them?” Druid paused, glancing to the left, and then to his right, drawing a deep breath on each occasion. “I...I... no, I cannot.” Regardless, the colt tried again and through straining ears found the quick step of hoof against the damp earth.

A confusing combination of fear and excitement pulsed with each pound of his tired heart. “ Mauja... Did you send Irma to get me?” The voice was soft and feminine; strange and worrying. The skin gathered across his bony hips flinched as he swayed timidly, across his long thin legs. A light gasp, and Druid’s knee bent warily, lifting the hoof high so that it tucked tightly beneath his elbow. “Mauja, who is this colt? And can I be introduced to him?" Tender, nurturing even as it seemed to recognize his need. He had been called ‘colt’ before, and knew instantly that the stranger was referring to him- that he had become the dreaded centre of all attention. Almost immediately, a third voice found the discontented jerk of his ears. “Who is this child, Mauja?” There was cheer underlying the words that was alien to the foal and he balked at the suddenness. “ Hello little one, I'm Leyra.” Each voice seemed closer than the next, echoing loudly through his head; violating the only touch with reality he had left available.

The hoof fell as a worried stamp and his head tilted away from the barrage of sound. “M...m...m....” He tried to call the stallion, but Mauja’s voice was already stroking down the prickle in Druid’s nerves. The stallion’s warm breath soaked against the ratty fur across his lean neck and the foal settled a little, guided by the familiar horse’s encouragement. "Druid, I want you to meet Delinne, and Leyra. They are two very nice mares, and Delinne has a daughter who is a little younger than you." No words found placement over his motionless tongue though, and while he understood Mauja’s introduction, he was not entirely convinced that this situation suited him well. Abrasively, the colt snorted, insisting the preservation of his space for now. With one ear flattened, he sent his quivering muzzle outwards to meet the first of these two... strangers.


"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."