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07-07-2014, 09:50 PM
 We traveled from the cliffs and mountains, leaving behind the feathered folk at a steady, but manageable pace. This body was a hard adjustment, it had changed somehow—grown into a woman, but it had forgotten to nourish the most important slice of moral flesh. The mind. My eyes were in constant movement, grasping, memorizing the smallest details in grass and flowers; how the bark ran up a paperthin white oak tree and the little animals paused their morning gamble to chirp or otherwise stare unafraid at the towering equines who went by. It was a welcoming distraction between eating and relearning to walk, trot, and run. I let my head hang low, still unaccustomed to the weighted spear that rested upon my brow. It was thick and strongly fashioned, I’d already spent time trying to stare directly at it and found myself unable to see closer than the tipped point. The morning mist curled around my smoky forefeet, maturing tendrils seemed out of place in this greenish world. I stood against the blowing meadow of dull sandy brown and emerald. “Da,” I called, brushing his mind with my feather light touches, “Where we go now?” I’d been swaying in the rear, stumbling every so often and sniffing at various plants only to fall behind and be forced to eagerly to trot forward. Now I pushed ahead, seeking to glide side by side with my sire and current guardian. Trusting childlike gaze sought the strength of his wisdom and guidance. |
