"You can stand, dears."
"Come now, Laila, Luken; you must eat."
"You must stand."
These noises continued to persist, paradoxical in their warm tenderness and powerful, vibrant tones; somewhere along the line, Laila realized that these noises were directed at her. Though she couldn’t make heads or tails of what was said, or indeed, the purpose of these noises and their functions, Laila was deathly fascinated by them, even more than she was wary of them. As her brother continued to breath tendrils of courage and comfort into her fur, Laila raised her head somewhat, her big, chocolate eyes drinking in the light that had blinded her. It wasn’t so intense this time; she looked upon verdant grasses and the orange light of eveningtime, an image that would stay in her mind for evermore. The scent of the wind was a smoldering thing, laced with saltiness and ferns, and the scent of high Tallsun; this, too, would be lodged forever within the depths of Laila’s mind, though she didn’t know it at the time. They were treasures, nodules of comfort for the tiny filly; they would haunt her for the rest of her days, reminding her of the carelessness of being a newborn. It would save her, eventually.
Laila observed around herself, noting the giants that roamed and walked around her; one as pure as the powdery snow she was ignorant to, the other as dark and proud as the night she was destined to experience. Though she feared the wide world around her and was reluctant to leave the safety of her brother’s side, these monoliths brought no such trepidation to her. Instead, the filly was mesmerized by their size and grace; their impossibly large, pillar-like legs captivated the tiny filly, and as she watched them an unfamiliar feeling grew within her breast. She didn’t know what it meant, but what Laila was feeling was admiration for these giants; she wanted to be as large and full of poise as these mighty things!
The dark behemoth bent and breathed on Laila as Luken had done before, but just as Luken only bestowed a tendril of bravery for his little sister, this impossible giant filled Laila with enough energy to threaten the poor filly to burst. She gave a great squeal as she was nudged, a tiny sound that would deepen into a whinny when she got older; she eagerly turned her head to face the stallion, reaching out as far as her neck could take her without moving from her spot in the grass. She wanted to return the touch, and breath upon him just as he had done her—but he was so high, his withers much too far out of reach, and Laila gave another squeal, this time one of indignation. She wanted to be that high!
As high as her father.
Her wail became a shortened squeak of shock as she felt her brother shifting violently, jostling her somewhat and moving away from her. Her eyes widened even more as she watched her brother unravel himself, splaying his long, spindly legs and working them somehow. She didn’t quite know what he was trying to do, but as gradually Luken rose upon his feet into an unsteady stance, Laila’s heart began to beat very fast indeed, inspired by the sight of her brother so tall. He wasn’t quite as high as the twin giants that accompanied them, but he certainly reached to the heavens, and when he bent and called her, a sound of obvious encouragement, the dam holding back Laila’s exhilaration broke.
Laila wasn’t precisely aware of all of her body; she had never attempted to move herself, and so she didn’t know what it felt like to move her legs and stand with them. But the urge, the desire to do so rose up in her breast, encouraged by both her brother’s and her father’s encouragement. Laila didn’t take a moment to figure out how she might need to move her legs and work them into something useful; she only wanted to be tall like the rest of her family, to be just as grand and proud as they were. As such, Laila used the burst of energy she felt to propel herself upwards, striving to be high and great like her brother.
It was…the most alien feeling in her entire existence. The desire to leave the ground was something Laila understood, but the sensation of using these long, skinny, weak things that were her legs was incredibly awkward and harder than she expected. As soon as she launched herself into the air, she crashed back down to the ground, her legs too tangled and confused to support her weight. As she hit the ground again, the surge of excitement that had pushed her forward suddenly drained out of Laila; she snorted and shook her tiny head, a wave of exhaustion rolling over her. She settled into the grass, but her head was held high and her breath was heavy, eyes open and staring straight at the white giant that beckoned them forward. This giant was important somehow; Laila must make her way toward them, waiting on another surge of energy to help her propel herself forward again.
She squealed again, accepting the challenge; this was her battle-cry.
LAILA
One Day, I Shall Live by the Code of Honor
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