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02-12-2013, 12:12 AM
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A smile moved across wrinkled lips when the winged one asked if he was friends with father Earth. "I am," he replied. "Or at least I like to think so. I have not ventured far from this rock in a long time, but he keeps a little pool back here for me to survive. I cannot travel far anymore," he repeated, humming quietly. "I have know the God of the Earth for a very long time. I think that makes us friends." The turtle sat and listened to the story of the colt, thinking on what happened with dark brows. As a young one, he had enjoyed life on the river in the Thistle Meadow, but war had broken out between two of the equine bands. He had not heard of such hatred ever taking place in Helovia before, and he mourned the darkness that was carried through the Threshold in broken hearts. The turtle craned his neck at the strange, furry red creature and smiled. Then, his attention turned back to the foal. "Troubling is this attack against you, such a small colt. Forgive me, but you are small in comparison now. You will grow to be strong like the Earth, but not too quickly! Old age creeps along until one day, you realize you are old!" Carefully, the turtle sad down against a rock. "I believe the Earth God would say to not taint your heart with anger toward the stallion. Only fools, tyrants and loathsome creatures hurt the young," he said. "But you are expected to not feel yourself. Your very life, the soul that clings so desperately to your bones, was dismembered. A long time, perhaps, you must wait until you return to normalcy." The turtle nodded. "Many who came from the land called Isilme feel the way you do, young colt. Escaping death does not mean leaving unscathed; it means carrying with you the reality of life." The turtle smiled. "Not hating him makes you of pure heart, little colt. You are a light in a storm." |
