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06-08-2013, 12:54 AM
| Skysong |
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The day the skies cracked open was the day I left home. "You couldn't survive out there on your own," Mother had told me, aghast. "And why couldn't I?" I had demanded angrily, my own voice rising above Mother's soft tones. "You were alone since you were what, six months? I'm a year old, Mother! When are you going to let me grow up?" "Perhaps when you choose to act like a grown-up," she had told me firmly, her voice not raising at all. I had been angry, and bitter, and cooped up, and I had been like this for far too long. "I hate you!" I had spat at her, and then I had walked away. It was not long before I found myself bounding into flight, clumsily lifting myself into the sky. I was not as graceful as Mother, perhaps, but I did not care; I wanted only an escape, only to prove to her that I could, in fact, take care of myself. She had not followed me, and the realization saddened me more than I could say. Did she not care for me? Did she not want me to stay with her? Or had I simply wounded her too much for her to bear to follow? Had I been to harsh with her? Questions buzzed around my mind like so many flies, and I had found my eyes overflowing with tears until I had to land, unable to see to fly straight. The ground beneath my feet was white, like Mother's pelt, and crunched softly under my hooves. I had never seen snow before. The day the skies cracked open was the day I left my family behind me. "Talk talk talk." |
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