There was a rhythm beating in Laila’s chest, somewhere deep and dark, hidden away from the core of her being. She felt it, but didn’t know what it was; it was a steady beat, rocking back and forth, lazy yet determined in its persistent metronome. The ebony filly chose not to fight it, realizing without trying that it was a useless endeavor; she instead walked to it, her legs carefully placed in front of her in time with the dull throb, her hooves placed methodically before her, attempting to avoid her usual clumsiness as she made her way down the inclining face of the hill. Before her eyes was a land partially bathed in darkness; it was very newly dawn, with white, tender light starting to creep forward from the east as thought tentatively inquiring for the time of day. As such, the air was brisk and brittle, quite uncharacteristic for Tallsun; Laila admittedly realized that this was not a sensation she was used to. Born into the heat of the world she was, Laila supposed with an ironic sort of amusement that heat is what she preferred.
Chocolate eyes, heavy and warm in their sparkling regard, looked out from under black lashes, surveying the dawn of the meadows before her. This was the furthest she had ever ventured from her homeland, and there was that little pitch of fear in her heart—though Laila realized it wasn’t fear of the unknown. The creeping dawn, the thistles laying before her feet—none of these things inspired alarm in her. In fact, she embraced them. She wanted to see these grand, wonderful things, to leave the confines of her cramped and over-crowded nest. She loved the Edge of the World, she truly did; the place will forever sit in her heart as her one and true home. But Laila wanted to see things, and she had been taught them too—and she knew that the entire world didn’t smell of salt. She took a deep breath of the intoxicatingly crisp air, cleansing her lungs with it, intensifying the throb behind her eyes and deep within her heartstrings. A warm voice was speaking to her.
Tallsun is a season, and those never last for long. Soon it will change…
“I don’t like this,” Laila said suddenly, her rich voice booming forth in the stillness of the early morning hour. She hadn’t intended to say it; it burst from her mind quite unintentionally, a neat little summarization of all the things that were whirling like a dust-cloud behind her. Seasons change; they never lasted for long—the very thought brought the throb to a forefront--Laila was beginning to understand. Some things were ephemeral, such as the shift of the sun on its axis, the green of a newly grown shoot of grass—the downy undercoat of a fresh baby robin. What scared her, however, was the implication of certain things coming to an end…or the horrible idea that they never existed in the first place. Tallsun is a season, and those never last for long, said the warm, chocolate voice. Soon it will change….Laila snorted, her ears pinning for a fraction of a second and the tips of her hooves becoming uncomfortably, alarmingly warm. I do not like that, she countered in her mind. She felt as though she were being mocked by her own thoughts.
“Luken,” she said aloud, once again blurting the most intimate of thoughts. At the thought and sound of his name, her neck raised a fraction and her ears pricked upwards and forwards. Laila looked around her, searching for the blot of colorless hide in the backdrop of the dark dawn. ”Luken?” she said again, her voice unusually tiny this time; it was more of a plea than anything, a desperate attempt to try and make sense of these things. It was a painful ordeal to think of her own mother with such….pain….contempt as she was. The acknowledgment of this contempt was even more painful for Laila to face—who would ever want to think of their mother with such distaste?—but she faced it. It was beyond her wildest guess as to why her mama had gone, or why she had left in the first place. Had the ebony filly wished to come to terms with her mother, she would confront the ivory giant and ask why? Where did you go? Why did you leave us here? Do you realize how scary the night was without you there to fight the shadows? It was too confusing to think about, however—Laila wasn’t sure how she would react. Would she cry? Would she rage and storm? Her hooves began to become warm again, the sensation starting to spread to the frogs of her feet. No. She wouldn’t lose control like this. She…needed away from the ivory mare. Away from the salty air of the World’s Edge. The ebony filly needed time to think.
“I don’t like this,” Laila said again—and heat burned within the depths of her throat.
LAILA
One Day, I Shall Live by the Code of Honor
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