The rivers were unthawed and babbling away like a noisy group of teenage girls, reminding us that even though the bitter cold still nipped at our ears every waking moment, it is indeed Birdsong. I have noticed a sudden spurt in the vegetation as well, making my mind create hundreds of options of what could have happened in order to rejuvenate the growth of each shoot of grass, the bud of newly born flowers. My dark body was splashed with the gleam of white moon light, my bright hair seeming to wash in with the bright gleam.

Wanderers of all sorts pass through this massive field each day by the ton, leaving their scents rubbed all along trees and rocks, their urine and defecations occasionally staining restored grasses and plaguing it with their strong odors. How I hate other beings: not of just one kind or two, of all. They are all irritating, no matter what they look like. My brain was fuzzy for so long, leaving me without a clue of how long it has been since the nausea began and eventually coming to a sweaty end. What I do recall was bringing a skinny, drug addicted stallion home to the swamps. That, my friends, is probably the only productive thing I did within the time span of ailment.

And what do you know? Here I am, again, out of the swamps. They are not hard for me to escape and not look back on. The only thing that brings me back to the cold bogs every night is knowing that my new family is there. An image of my father's brutal face looking down at me with those oh-so-rarely soft eyes, a gentle smile brushing his hard features like a waterfall over a jagged cliff.

A figure in the distance brought my attention from the image in my head back to reality, making my body halt. A dark mass was outlined with the soft glow of the moon that drenched the purple dotted field. Two extra appendages hung at the nameless figure's sides, folded at their sides comfortably. My ears flicked back, nostrils flaring as a few deep breaths were drawn in. Just as I had suspected, the smells mixed in with each other much too well. Where she may be from, I have no idea. Perhaps another new member of the family?

Both ears cocked forward and I dipped my lace printed skull, shaking the massive length of forelock out of my vision. Long legs pulled up from the grassy earth once more, carrying me toward the mare. I watched her with intense, emotionless eyes, making sure she didn't move too quickly for my liking. A light clatter of something solid that I could not quite catch; perhaps it is something that the winged one has. I pause a comfortable distance away from the female, watching her in silence. She has to know I am standing here, unless she is completely stupid.

"Speak." Thinking Walk walk
Tagged: @[Elita]