Walking up along a steep cliff, the cold resounded around him. He looked through the snow, and saw images. A little him running, playing in the newly fell snow some days after he was born, his mother beneath a tree, watching closely, and his father, tall and strong, playing carefully in the snow with him. He laughed, but it was a cold, bitter one. He missed his parents in the winter, and he would never get rid of that. He remembered the winter after that, in which they celebrated his first coming birthday, and he got to slide down a large cliff and almost broke a leg. He laughed a that too, but that laugh was genuine, and he remembered the scolding he got from his mother, and how she repeated so many times that he could have hurt his leg, or much worse. His mother always worried too much, and she knew it, but she never stopped. Since he was born in the winter, even if it was late, it was still bitter cold. They both knew he didn’t have a high chance of surviving as he did in the other seasons, so they took extra care to make sure he did. He seemed to remember each year with his parents before they died by winter, and the rest was all a blur. In the third winter, his uncle, Raithe, came for a visit, and come to see the young colt from his home, which is North of Helovia. He stayed for several weeks, and he took care of the colt for some of them while his parents went off to find a new place to live with more food and water, and better shelter and than some low hanging trees and scarce bushes. During that time with his uncle, he learned about his race, and he was taught the basics of fighting, and he was beginning to learn some harder things, when his parents came back, and his mother scolded both him and Raithe. The teaching stopped, but he would always tell him useful things with a smile and a wink. One he remembered perfectly.
“Remember who you are, and where you come from. Don’t ever forget, or regret.”
That was the day that his uncle left to go back home. In his forth year, things started to decline. His mother started to develop a cough, and soon she couldn’t walk very well. His father looked after her then, and he was sent to find various foods and water, and some herbs as well. That was until he father fell to the sickness as well. That was in the late fall and early winter of his fifth year. He spend the first weeks running around looking for things he remembered his father telling him, as his father wasn’t much help now. His mother got worse, and started not to eat, or drink anything he brought for her. All he could do was sit there and watch as his mother deteriorated, and slowly died. One time he came back with fresh herbs, and his mother was still. He knew that she died, and his father was quietly sobbing. His father reached that stage shortly after his mother passed. He looked at his son with weak eyes, knowing he couldn’t be saved.
“Run my son. Go to your uncle. You know my fate; so don’t waste your time here. Remember that we always loved you, and continue on without us, but always with us in your heart.”
A tear rolled down his face, remembering that horrid moment. He stood there, sobbing quietly, the aching in his chest almost too much. He felt so alone, and he didn’t know what to do about it. It wished with all his being that his parents were still alive to guide him, and his uncle too. He spent a year with his uncle when his was nine, then his uncle fell to the same disease. He seemed to be immune to it, and it only made it hurt worse. Why was he spared when his loved ones weren’t? Why did he have to survive why they slowly died around him? He almost didn’t notice the mare that stood against the snowy background. The red in her mane stood out from the rest of the white. She almost looked like him, but the mare had no markings. He pulled himself together as best as he could, still feeling the hurt and anger of his past with no way out, and walked closer to the mare. He didn’t know her, but this way a way he could talk to another mare of the herd. He suddenly wondered if she was part of the Edge, because he thought he would have seen her before, but he was so lost in himself that he probably didn’t. The shining light of opportunity was around him, and he somehow knew he would be alright.


Strolling Along
Tying my Tongue
Gears are Shifting