Colorblind

[OPEN] Colorblind

Ryuu Posts: 28

Outcast

Colt :: Unicorn :: 15.1hh :: 1 Year

Mali :: Rough Collie :: None Brit

12-21-2014, 01:07 AM

ranjiri & ryuu

so while you're outside looking in, describing what you see
remember what you're looking at is me

I don't know how to feel, what to feel beyond the racing of my heart and the sharp stabbing of my hooves. I gaze up at the familiar stranger, my stomach knotting until I fear I might get sick. Something most show in my face, or maybe it's the way I cry out that causes her to back away and give me space. I cannot stop the heaving of my chest even still, but I watch her more openly now, the shaking of my limbs going from violent to tremulous shivers. She is so familiar to me, but it hurts me to gaze upon her face and I don't know why. It is the not knowing that scares me the most. I've never had such a strong instinctive feeling about someone, and I don't know how to react to a negative one.

Everything around me slows, stills, at Cera's name. I cling to the familiarity, drag my eyes to her face even though it makes me tremble inside with a knot of emotions I cannot untangle enough to inspect. "Y-You know Cera?" I venture, my tone quiet and fragile even as my brow draws close. Cera isn't my father...wasn't Voodoo my father? The fuzz is strong in my mind, but it whirls closer and closer to an answer I'm not ready to understand or believe. Even still, the warmth of my chest is undeniable. Cera tells me he loves me every day, and yet...to hear a stranger tell me that they knew he loved me? It was a whole new experience for me. Did he speak of me to others?

As I cry for momma, the woman's lips curl. I shrink beneath her anger, or whatever it is that causes such a sour expression to be born on her face. I am only distracted as my name is called, screamed really. This is a voice I know. This is a voice that I can trust, that can calm my racing heart and remind me that I am never really, truly alone. That so long as I call out, I will always be answered. She has always told me that she will never leave me, but every time she proves her word I cannot help but feel something sharp and broken inside me mend itself.

In a flurry of sand and righteous anger you arrive, and instead of cowering beneath the might of your protective fury I revel in you presence. I draw closer rather than shying away, crawling awkwardly towards you until you are standing above me. Not a prison, but a protective cage made of limbs and feathers. You speak, but soon after the stranger is speaking, and I am torn between whether I should tell how I feel (which I fear is not a viable reason for my distress call) or comfort the pathetic creature before us. Not me nor you, for we are one, a pair that cannot be removed with how intertwined we have grown. Like two trees planted too close to one another, winding round until our very cores are the same. That is what you are to me.

"I...I don't know who she is momma. But she's...wrong. She said Cera my father. Cera's not father, right? Momma?" I am so confused, and tangled up and hurting. I look to you for guidance. My words are soft, so that only you may hear them and not she. I curl my legs closer beneath your belly, hoping you will not see what my own self-hatred has driven me to do. I do not want to see the disappointment in your eyes.

I turn instead to the pale lady, hoping to direct your attention, too, to her. "I-It's okay," I murmur, ducking my head shyly and pressing my cheek to the inside of your foreleg. You are warm, and you smell of home. Wherever you are, that is where I belong. I lift my eyes to the stranger, and I try to remember what you taught me. Politeness, first and foremost, until they prove themselves worthy of something else. I suppose I've already ruined one of those rules, as it was my gut instinct that told me she was something dangerous rather than her proving it herself.

"What's your name?" I am hesitant to ask about Cera, already confused about him and what the lady has said about him, so instead I ask her name. I suppose it's impolite to call her stranger in my head.