.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
12-23-2012, 11:23 AM
It was a bit past midday when Owl noticed the birds around her going quieter and the forest going stiller. Her petite ears perked up—why have they stopped singing with me?—when that reason became abundantly clear. Someone approached in the distance, their hooves also falling in time to the same beat that Owl’s did; the beat of wild things in harmony. She was not scared of someone happening upon her. She was more excited than anything, the prospect of meeting a new stranger excited her. Owl had been alone for quite a long time in her travels throughout the mountains and forests and prairies, meeting others briefly and disappearing the next morning. Some say she might have a fear of earthly attachments, but Owl disagreed. It was not a fear, per se, more like a realization that everything in this life is temporary and must be treated as such. The footfalls of the stranger drew nearer and came louder; they were the self-assured footsteps of a brave man, a proud man. He came out of the brush like a portrait or statue, perfect in his muscle chisel and nearly flawless in his coloring—the mark of the Appaloosa was on him, spoiling the rich mahogany with white speckles, much like freckles mark a porcelain face. He came to a halt before Owl, smiling though it seemed an effort to make it genuine and not weary. She smiled in turn, a soft, nondescript Mona Lisa smile, but it was genuine nonetheless. “Your song is lovely,” he said in soft tones matching her own, though his were much lower than her own gentle alto. “You travel a trail well-worn, but you are unlike those who follow it.” He halts here, perhaps collecting his thoughts. “What do you seek in Helovia?” There is deeper meaning in this question. Owl’s smile curls up around her lips and she answers him.
“Thank you. I seek understanding and knowledge of the inner parts of nature that I have yet to discover. I want to know why these bluebirds sing, why these squirrels chatter in their trees. It’s different in every kingdom, every realm.”
Her thanks was sincere, her reasoning honest. A glint of bronze caught her owlish eyes from above; a dragon circled above the duo. Owl assumed that its master was the stallion standing in front of her—wild dragons are notoriously prone to attacking, while this one seemed perfectly docile and controlled. His dragon’s coloring contrasted perfectly with his odd silver eyes, metallic and bright with youth and zest. Owl felt like he was a good person—such a rare commodity these days. Her sandy ears flicked around, taking in all the sounds around as her creamy mane and tail wafted in the gentle breeze that rolled off the mountainside and leaked in through the trees. It was cool and refreshing, the sun was warm and welcoming; a perfect spring day if there ever was one. This pleased Owl greatly. While she enjoyed all seasons and all phases of nature, spring, the time of rebirth and greenery, was her favorite.
“Thank you. I seek understanding and knowledge of the inner parts of nature that I have yet to discover. I want to know why these bluebirds sing, why these squirrels chatter in their trees. It’s different in every kingdom, every realm.”
Her thanks was sincere, her reasoning honest. A glint of bronze caught her owlish eyes from above; a dragon circled above the duo. Owl assumed that its master was the stallion standing in front of her—wild dragons are notoriously prone to attacking, while this one seemed perfectly docile and controlled. His dragon’s coloring contrasted perfectly with his odd silver eyes, metallic and bright with youth and zest. Owl felt like he was a good person—such a rare commodity these days. Her sandy ears flicked around, taking in all the sounds around as her creamy mane and tail wafted in the gentle breeze that rolled off the mountainside and leaked in through the trees. It was cool and refreshing, the sun was warm and welcoming; a perfect spring day if there ever was one. This pleased Owl greatly. While she enjoyed all seasons and all phases of nature, spring, the time of rebirth and greenery, was her favorite.
