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03-29-2016, 08:15 PM
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The woods sang to her. Brilliant, vivacious, colorful sounds filled the air. Joy was heard, yes, but also it was felt. It wound its way into her hairs, through her skin, spreading and seeping through the muscle, invading into her very bone. Her heart thumped in time with the rhythm, her ears flicked this way and that, taking in the noise, embracing it, welcoming back the magic that had been absent from her life. Too long, she thought, blue eyes looking through the woods. She knew this place well. Once, she had known every weaving trail, every winding vine of ivy. Not anymore. These woods still felt like an old friend but, as all things do, her friend had changed. Not in a bad way, or a wrong way, but they were different nevertheless. She could no longer close her eyes and weave through the trees fearlessly. Should she break into a gallop, she would surely trip on some rock that had not been there or some bush that had found new life. So she didn’t close her eyes, or gallop, or weave. She stood, overwhelmed with emotion. Beneath the sound of joy, one thread echoed different than the rest. Dissonant and cold, out of tune and out of rhythm. It was a reflection of her heart in the music, perhaps; or, at least, a part of it. There was a thread in her heart, a muscle, a fiber, that was telling her she should not return. She didn’t belong, after all. She’d spent so much time away. Wouldn’t it be that all of her friends, much like this forest, would be foreign to her. Familiar, of course, but also… different. She would not be able to run to them with the same reckless abandon, would not be able to lean on them if she needed them, at least not right away, she assumed. Or, perhaps ever. Could life here be the same, when she had walked out on it so suddenly? Had she even remembered to say goodbye? But it didn’t matter, really. The way the music of the gods invaded her very soul when she had crossed the borders was all she needed to know that this was really where she belonged. The queen- wait, no. She was a queen no longer, she reminded herself, stepped forward. One hoof after the other, slowly but steadily, the Sunshower carried on into the forest. The trees brushed against her, waving in time with her song. The leaves rustled gently, percussion to the melody of the birds and the insects. And then, on a whim, the queen added her own bit to the piece. A whinny fell from her lips, filling the air. Loud, confident, she announced her presence. Perhaps she would not be welcome; but then… perhaps she would. This was home, even if it hadn’t been for some time. A smile was on her lips. Life was good. OOC| for anyone, old friend or not Here Comes The Sun |
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Kahlua at any time
for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing her.
Please do not tag Kahlua unless it is in an opening post
