These moving parts inside of me -
Well, they’ve been shutting down for quite some time
Leaving only rust behind

The waves were frothy and warm near the shore. The sun had beaten through their reflective defenses and managed to make its way toward the naked ocean floor. You were mesmerized, smitten even, by the continual heave of its breast as the sea breathed life and saltwater kisses across the sand. You danced and bucked, tilted and swayed, in and out of the surf, squealing and calling for the white wolf to join you from afar. He was kind enough to humor you with a grunt and a sullen sigh, but remained unmoving toward your childish cajoling. Too bad mother wasn’t around to command him otherwise…

As you shimmied and turned, your tiny hooves leaving equally tiny impressions along the beach, you almost failed to notice the unfamiliar addition to your play. It was a filly no older than yourself and a pretty and interesting one at that. She was much like you in ways that your brother simply wasn’t and it caused you pause. Suddenly the waves seemed to drop away behind you as you stood staring, drenched in the remnants of the ocean’s tide. What little forelock you had grown in the short month you’d been alive was now plastered across your poll, a tangled and unrecognizable mess. Yet, from beneath it, you peered at the stranger with those pale and unassuming eyes. 

Romul fell to attention almost immediately, the wolf gathering himself alongside you despite the waves, and motioned for you to stay close. It was the first time you had ever seen him come so near the ocean's edge and in spite of the situation, it made you smile. However, above the rushing of the swell and the cooing of the southern gales, your new friend (though nervous) called out to you from a distance. You struggled with her speech, turning the single word over in your mind as you strung meaning and intent throughout, before finally responding with an attentive, “Hel-lo.”

Then, you watched her brandy-colored eyes trailing toward your mother’s companion while Romul returned her interest with an absentminded chuffing. It was meant to sound protective and alert, but his duties lie elsewhere in the Throat and you were but a mere distraction from said responsibility. You chuckled for a moment, the sound itself washing away beneath the layers of seaside song, and then returned your smiles to the beautiful new acquaintance you hoped to obtain.

“No…” you stressed as you attempted speech for the second time without your mother there to guide your tongue. “It’s—not.”

You shook your head sending a leftover spray of saltwater dancing about your face. “I’m… Gyda.” The sound of your voice felt foreign even to your own ears, but somehow exhilarating, as if you wanted nothing more than to keep talking. For the first time in your life you had manged to introduce yourself to someone instead of leaving your mother to do it for you. How well you were learning now…


Gyda

Down my arms, a thousand satellites
Suddenly discover signs of life