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05-04-2014, 09:04 PM
there's a monster living under my bed whispering in my ear there's an angel, with a hand on my head she says I've got nothing to fear If nothing else, I felt a particular affinity for trees. Those in the Threshold towered older, taller, darker in places than the new growth of the World’s Edge. They offered better respite from the threat of rain far above, where throaty anger rumbled in the mixing of dark clouds. I envied no stranger lost in the forest under such a storm; many past acquaintances feared the noise of thunder, the sudden stab of lightning. Fitting fears for soldiers, of course… I regarded the overcast heavens with mild curiosity, my stride long. No fear of weather or the unknown shadows of the no-man’s-land touched my mind. I had no reason for either such thing. Instead, I gazed between the trees with curiosity. Scouting members brought me no joy, but the idea of being useful did, at least, ease the old burden of guilt in the back of my mind. Work left no room for idle thought… so I always chose work, when I could. No figure met my eyes, though, and only the distant smells of strangers lingered on the tree bark, nearly swallowed by the swollen dampness of the air. A drop of rain landed cold in my ear; I started, cloven hooves clutching at the loamy earth, and a sound quite beyond my own hooves echoed elsewhere between the trees. My attention turned that way, keenly, and without further thought I followed the sound. She met my eyes sooner than expected: a unicorn nearing my own size, black, crowned in pale silver falls of hair. I paused, voice breaking from my chest in what felt a terribly familiar attempt at kindness. “Hello.” Something in her movements kept me back – some nervous tension, slipping along from one tiptoe step to the next. Did she fear some tangible threat, or was she merely nervous? “I mean you no harm…” I promised, and moved forward quietly, my long tail trailing behind. “My name is Ruske. Welcome to Helovia.” How practiced I sounded… nearly genteel. I paused yet several strides away from her and observed, eyes running down the pearly length of her horn, the matte black of her hide. She painted a lovely picture, for one so timid – or perhaps that explained the timidity. |
