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10-31-2014, 02:11 PM
It felt nice enough to be able to view them from afar, safely, and even as the chill of evening set in, casting the commotion below in the heavy shade of night, Fig maintained her comfortable distance. Strange lights were soon stirred to life throughout the village and the activity never ceased. Many continued to spill down from the misty, cloudy rim of the island not far from where she too had been delivered, but they paid Fig little heed, perhaps even mistaking her for a natural feature of the beautifully decorated landscape; perhaps just not interested in anything that may deviate them off course.
The Lignea were a simplistic, selfless race who sought only to maintain the equilibrium of life. Fig knew nothing of greed or envy, and she certainly had never before experienced the weight of the loneliness that seemed to settle so suddenly upon her as the world moved obliviously below. She was not like them, was not one of them, and though she was content to watch well apart from their activity, she missed the serene companionship of her Arborun family- the tree kin. With quiet, humble eyes the young Lignea began to look around her. Her vision in these darkened hours was not the greatest, and she could barely make out the rough silhouettes of the cherry blossoms on a rival slope – they could just as easily have been gathered souls of this land with twisted, perverted branches growing from their skulls, or bird’s wing lifted towards the sliver of pale moon.
Either way, she had not yet spent enough time on the island to feel so confident that she might seek discover the truth, and she settled her unusual weight equally across steady, large, hair shrouded hooves.
A small time later there was a small cough from behind her, a sound that startled the unsuspecting creature enough that she turned her cumbersome frame to meet the arriving mare. Fig’s horse-like ears swivelled with curiosity and her large gentle eyes welcomed forward the familiar face – pale, pretty and unusual like the Lignea herself. True to her kind, the young creature held close memories and experiences, she did not easily forget, and Resplendence came now as a blessing, just like when they had met originally. Tenderly Fig smiled, reaching kindly to dot the other’s hide with her much larger, fuzzy nose. “Why yes...” she answered slowly, as was the habit of her kind’s tongue, “I am Fig, the one called Kahlua introduced us.” To the young Lignea that occasion felt like only yesterday. She recalled easily the glass wall, shimmering as it towered well clear of even Fig’s body plant and the shadows from which this fair-haired equine had slithered.
“It is nice to see you again, friend,” she drawled sincerely, a grin rising still further through her expression. Fig could not see the discontent burning behind the mare’s eyes of bright gold. Apparently the dimness of the early night masked it well.
The Lignea were a simplistic, selfless race who sought only to maintain the equilibrium of life. Fig knew nothing of greed or envy, and she certainly had never before experienced the weight of the loneliness that seemed to settle so suddenly upon her as the world moved obliviously below. She was not like them, was not one of them, and though she was content to watch well apart from their activity, she missed the serene companionship of her Arborun family- the tree kin. With quiet, humble eyes the young Lignea began to look around her. Her vision in these darkened hours was not the greatest, and she could barely make out the rough silhouettes of the cherry blossoms on a rival slope – they could just as easily have been gathered souls of this land with twisted, perverted branches growing from their skulls, or bird’s wing lifted towards the sliver of pale moon.
Either way, she had not yet spent enough time on the island to feel so confident that she might seek discover the truth, and she settled her unusual weight equally across steady, large, hair shrouded hooves.
A small time later there was a small cough from behind her, a sound that startled the unsuspecting creature enough that she turned her cumbersome frame to meet the arriving mare. Fig’s horse-like ears swivelled with curiosity and her large gentle eyes welcomed forward the familiar face – pale, pretty and unusual like the Lignea herself. True to her kind, the young creature held close memories and experiences, she did not easily forget, and Resplendence came now as a blessing, just like when they had met originally. Tenderly Fig smiled, reaching kindly to dot the other’s hide with her much larger, fuzzy nose. “Why yes...” she answered slowly, as was the habit of her kind’s tongue, “I am Fig, the one called Kahlua introduced us.” To the young Lignea that occasion felt like only yesterday. She recalled easily the glass wall, shimmering as it towered well clear of even Fig’s body plant and the shadows from which this fair-haired equine had slithered.
“It is nice to see you again, friend,” she drawled sincerely, a grin rising still further through her expression. Fig could not see the discontent burning behind the mare’s eyes of bright gold. Apparently the dimness of the early night masked it well.
