It felt good to feel the sunlight again. After months spent underground, growing accustomed to the darkness and the dim glowing lights, Murdock could hardly bear to keep his eyes open in the brightness of daylight. He had finally emerged from the caves, finally convincing himself it was time to move on and leave the past behind. It seemed so simple, didn’t it? To just pretend nothing had happened and look to the future for better things. He used to find it easy. Now, however, a storm cloud filled his mind and the weight of its turmoil chained him to the shadows.

He had not been to the oceanside many times, and so for this reason he had chosen to venture there. He eagerly took to the skies, his wings now healed and his feathers regrown from his encounter with October. It had been so long since he had been able to fly, since he had been able to look at the world, so small and insignificant, from above. He couldn’t get over the way the wind whistled in his ears, spring warmth lifting him high above the treetops to the sky he called home. He had missed flying more than anything else, and though his muscles ached from disuse, he could hardly bring himself to land.

He touched down softly in the sand, dark hooves sinking deep into the golden grains on the edge of the sea. He had never been fond of water, but somehow the sound of the waves lapping gently at the shore eased his mind. The sky stretched on endlessly over the ocean to the edge of the world, curving away into oblivion, into darkness. He watched the clouds float lazily across the heavens overhead as he walked, letting his mind remain free of burdensome thoughts. It never did much good to think. Not when your problems were many and your head was in the clouds.

As the wind picked up and Murdock turned his attention to the white crests of the waves, he noticed he was not alone. A red mare stood at the edge of the water, her head back, cream hair playing lightly in the breeze. Her markings were strange, as if white paint had been placed on her forehead and allowed to spill across the bridge of her nose and flow down her cheeks. She was different, just like him, although the markings on his body could not be seen in the daylight. After months of spending dark days alone in the caves, Murdock decided he was finally ready to use his voice once more.

“Nice day,” he commented smoothly, mustering all the enthusiasm he could. He stepped carefully over the sand toward her, stopping a respectable distance away with a slight dip of his head. He had forgotten how to hold a conversation, how to introduce himself and make small talk. The things he used to be so good at had melted away into the back of his mind along with the colourful personality that he had worn so proudly. If only she hadn’t left, maybe he would have been able to maintain some shadow of his former exuberance.


"talk talk talk"