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08-20-2013, 06:17 PM
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Lace remembers me. I smile brightly, pleased that I am liked enough to be stored within his memories, for I am sure he has far more than I do tucked away. I give him a bright look, noticing how he stumbles back after a light brush on my shoulder, likely startled by the grass. I found it interesting the many different reactions it received. By many, it was a blessing, but I remember have the scary dark lady blessed with lightning had been unwilling to eat it. I wonder what the suspicion is in magic? I am only reviving the health the sprouts have lost in the cold of winter. They smile happily at me, and I smile back. The earth and the earth's child. "I have been busy," I say earnestly, my face open as it turns toward Lace's webbed face. "Father left me with a very important quest." I must not let him down, I think to myself, even as I look up with bicolored eyes in the unnatural light of the lantern trees toward Lace. He seems bewildered, but slowly understanding creeps on his face. I had never told him who my sire was, but apparently everyone in Helovia is faster than I in this discovery. I wonder, though, what it is about me that speaks of the Earth. Maybe it is that we both wear ram horns and wings. I do not know. I completely miss the villainous grin that paints over the dark lady's features, glancing back in her direction only as I hear the soft chomp of teeth on grass. I smile again, happy to have helped a starving traveler once more. How could I know that this was the sort I should not have approached? Who am I to judge? Should I play God and decide which of my father's creatures deserve life over death? I think not, even if I had known better. She may be haunting underneath the skull painted on her face, but I would have no way of knowing. For all of my intelligence, I am a blithering idiot at times. What spooks me is not the lady garbed in black, but the sudden appearance of a strange creature at my hooves. I shy away, my weight transcending to my haunches and my front end spills in the direction of Lace uneasily. I snort loudly in surprise, my eyes looking downward in the dim light to pick out fuzzy features. I laugh at myself, for I am without the pride of a fool, despite being one. I laugh at my own fear, for it is nothing more than a fox.... with a strange number of tails? Oh well. A fox is a fox, in my eyes. A hearty chortle is cut short as I hear the approach of another, soft footfalls on the loam and dusting of snow. The scent catches my nares before I actually see it - a filly. My eyes widen owlishly for a moment as she approaches, seeing how she would react. A pale mane rolling over an expression that matches that of an old lady; I am reminded starkly of myself, always thinking rather than doing - the opposite of a child. She is calm, and it helps sooth my nerves despite the fact my heart wants to jump out of my throat at the sight of a filly. They make me nervous, while I do not understand why, I do not appreciate it. I cannot blame this girl, though, for she seems kindly. I let out a meek smile, attempting to feign friendliness when I feel like fleeing from her sight. "Welcome," I say, my voice held intentionally straight, despite the turn my stomach takes. Why am I freaking out? It's only a girl. The ghostly mare speaks again, her voice strangely coquettish yet dangerous, as though she had some malevolent qualities hidden behind her words. The mystery was one I do not understand, but there had to be a reason I did not easily give Lace's name to her. I wonder, what is the importance of names? Should I not offer mine so easily? She did not use 'Hototo', anyway, though I am certain she heard, first from my lips and then from Lace's. Perhaps, she is demented of the mind. Pitiable, but still deserving of kindness. I do not know. She is an enigma. Something I have never encountered in my travels. I wish mother were here. She would know. "I have never had to name anything before, ma'am," honest, ever like a child. "So I am afraid I do not know what to call you." I smile, feeling uneasy but trying to bury it under optimism. I doubt she would give me a name even now, for she seems uncertain. |
