Hello, Mother. It’s me again. Brother’s breathing was soft and deep beside me as I blinked awake that night.

I took a little time to admire the stars as soon as I had blinked the bleariness away. They’re like jewels in the blackness, you know; glittering everywhere, winking at you sometimes, brilliant and cold but also a promise of better things, beautiful things, I’m guessing. Some of them shot across the sky; others shimmered different colors of the rainbow; others clustered around into fantastic shapes, and my eyes danced and dazzled across them, figuring them out, giving them names in my head. And yet, with all their beauty, the stars were not the reason why I awoke.

I shifted uneasily beside Brother’s warm hide; my mouth was dust behind my lips, my tongue itching and irritated, my throat as dry as the sand dunes I loved to walk passed (I often wondered what it would like to tumble down one of them, to feel the soft sand engulf me in a cloud—but I digress). The oasis wasn’t far, I knew that; I knew that it would only take a small trek in the night-time darkness. I also knew that by no means would my Brother allow me to venture to the oasis on my own—or, indeed, allow me to go anywhere on my own. And, well, he honestly had a point! You see, Mother, my front right hoof was….well. They told me it would heal; but it really is shattered. As far as my brothers could tell, I could barely stand on my own, much less pick up a gait and move myself! I was beholden to them, their charge and their damsel, until such a time as my hoof would heal and I would be able to move on my own.

I watched my Brother sleep for a while, captivated by his total oblivion, the restful way his eyes closed, the relaxed lines of his face. Because there’s something he doesn’t know: that I’d been practicing during these sorts of times alone, when my brothers took their eyes from me for seconds at a time; I’d been training myself how to stand and propel myself into a precarious—yet sure--walk.

Oh, Mother! I hope he’ll forgive me; he seemed so peaceful, and I didn’t want to ruin that.

I was very careful. Tentatively, I rocked myself back and forth, careful not to jostle Brother’s hide (but his sleep was so deep, I doubt he would’ve felt much). It was a little tricky, yet I succeeded in managing to balance on one fore as I pulled myself to my feet. I swayed a little, adjusting my balance, before taking one last, tentative glance at my Brother and heading off for the oasis.

I crept, silently. Even when I made it to the water’s edge, my lips were quiet too.

Oh, but I hope he won’t be too worried!





@[Zèklè]!

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