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10-27-2013, 11:07 PM
Family was a decidedly alien concept to me; home, perhaps even more so. Who could blame me, with a cold, distrustful father and a mother whose genuine affection could not mask her pity? Sasha was the only fixed point I’d ever had. Everyone and everything else only felt permanent in my memories.
I heard the rustle of another individual nearby long before acknowledging them, nursing a habit of thoughtful discretion. Perhaps they, too, were lost in thought, or preferred to be alone. I wouldn’t mind either way.
Shared silence is beautiful.
Only when she spoke did I turn, my smile brightening unconsciously. She was young even by my reckoning, and not simply equine.
My days within the realm of Nocturne were not so far behind me that horses bearing whimsical markings and weapons and wings were a shock, but nor had I ever grown exactly accustomed to seeing them. I was a mundane creature, unremarkable in every way but the circumstances surrounding my birth, and I found that I much preferred to feel awe rather than inspire it. This young night-dark filly was gilded from her hooves to her horn to the tips of her wings, and though she bore little true resemblance I saw shades of little Katya in her. How our hearts wander in the moonlight, Kostya.
“Of course I don’t mind,” I said softly, glancing skyward; almost immediately I looked back again. “I mean, I’ve not taken your spot, have I?” It certainly seemed to be a nice place for thinking, and the gilded filly carried herself like someone with a lot weighing her down.
I heard the rustle of another individual nearby long before acknowledging them, nursing a habit of thoughtful discretion. Perhaps they, too, were lost in thought, or preferred to be alone. I wouldn’t mind either way.
Shared silence is beautiful.
Only when she spoke did I turn, my smile brightening unconsciously. She was young even by my reckoning, and not simply equine.
My days within the realm of Nocturne were not so far behind me that horses bearing whimsical markings and weapons and wings were a shock, but nor had I ever grown exactly accustomed to seeing them. I was a mundane creature, unremarkable in every way but the circumstances surrounding my birth, and I found that I much preferred to feel awe rather than inspire it. This young night-dark filly was gilded from her hooves to her horn to the tips of her wings, and though she bore little true resemblance I saw shades of little Katya in her. How our hearts wander in the moonlight, Kostya.
“Of course I don’t mind,” I said softly, glancing skyward; almost immediately I looked back again. “I mean, I’ve not taken your spot, have I?” It certainly seemed to be a nice place for thinking, and the gilded filly carried herself like someone with a lot weighing her down.
