"One Day, I Shall Live By the Code of Honor."
A child’s eyes are unclouded lenses to the world; they’re free of all the deception and wishful ideals of an adult mind, free of all the clutter that obscures the sight of the sweet, sweet world that lay before mortals. All is true in a child’s eye; all is right. Everything appears exactly as it should in the young eye—and if it appeared confusing and scary, it probably was confusing and arbitrary in its existence, and quite fearful in its visage, cloaked in sheep’s wool it might be. Such is the gift of childhood, and heartbreaking it is when that bittersweet burst of the bubble wakes one into the life of age and responsibility. The silver lining of such a tragedy is that the wonder of the sunlit days of a child are never truly gone; they cling on, beautiful in retrospect and comforting to the soul.
Laila had been wandering around on this fine Tallsun’s day, exploring and frolicking within the warm, summer air with her brother—playing games and flailing their hooves to and fro in mock battles, battles filled with tiny warcries and the consternation of focused children in their make-believe conquests. As the sun began its decent into the sky, warm and golden in its shining face, a tiny voice inside Laila’s head began to croon to her, a gentle, serene voice that spoke in chocolate-whispers: When the sun’s getting low, it’s time for you to come to sleep. Laila obeyed that lyrical voice no matter what, and so she stumbled in the golden grass, the salty air whipping her shock of a main as she made her way to the sleeping spot. Now, however, Laila took a different route; it was becoming a habit of hers, seeking out different paths within the herd land that took her to the same destination. She would make it to the sleeping spot, surely, and back to the side of her snowy, beloved brother. But she wanted to see different flowers, different rocks, different trees and ferns—perhaps, if she was lucky enough, Laila might even spot a different piece of the sky.
Yet…something drew her further and further from the path she intended to take. Some twinge in her chest, painful and sweet at the same time, pulled and beckoned her limbs toward a secluded grove—a place Laila hadn’t been before. Her eyes were pools of ocher curiosity as she beheld the place; voices could be heard there, tender and rejoicing in their muffled words. What was going on over there? The twinge in her breast began to throb, and Laila knew she must sate her appetite for discovery. She must see what was going on…Her motor skills still hadn’t improved since she was brought to the world; Laila still threw her hooves haphazardly in the air and onto the ground, moving herself with a most ungraceful lurch in her steps. Yet, somehow, Laila found a way to muffle her footfalls, a trick learned after her games with Luken; she snuck upon the grove, trying not to be discovered, lest it was a forbidden place she was attempting to defile. A soft black muzzle pressed itself into the bushes, pushing her tiny head through as Laila peeked curiously into the assembly.
What she saw…was definitely unusual.
The sight was indescribable; two of the taller beings, the adults of the herd, stood and gazed at each other with such obvious affection it made Laila’s throat clench, though she had no idea what she was looking at. Between the two stood a delicate blossom; a drop of gold against the backdrop of the grasses and shrubs. The sight struck a chord within Laila; something deep within resonated with the way the creature’s legs wobbled, how its azure eyes stared on with determination and that insatiable aptitude for discovery. Such was the depth of Laila’s emotion that she was pulled forward, softly rustling the bushes as her tiny hooves took tentative steps toward the new family. This feeling Laila had was empathy, though she didn’t know it, and it inspired subconscious memories of a warm summer’s day with the sun settled low, where she witnessed towering legs of ebony and ivory for the first time and she discovered that the white mass that kept her warm was named Luken….
A child’s eyes are unclouded lenses to the world—and Laila decided what she saw was beautiful. This sunset will never leave her.
|
|
|
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
⇒
But for the Grace of God [Birthing Thread, Open!]
