The Valley
Between the Meadow and the Field is the third of Beqanna’s Common Grounds. A rolling valley is bisected by a broad and shallow river. The grass is thick and lush, and this is a good place for a stallion to live with his family if he does not yet have a herd land.
ashes to ashes, dust to dust
IP: 90.241.131.95
Posted on April 5, 2007 at 06:04:53 AM by .darkmoon.
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Lurking would have described him best. It was a fair way from his home - better stop calling it new home, now you’ve been there two years, Darkmoon - and he had set off early, earlier than was necessary, to late to make use of himself in the Field or the Meadow. And so he loitered, lurked, hung around, whatever you will call it, until the cry could be heard echoing up the empty Valley. I had been empty for aeons, his nose told him, as he stepped into the quiet fold in the land, but already two stallions stood there. Had he not been in a serious mood, he might have laughed his hollow laugh that the last time he was here he was a bullied idiot.
Gait slowed as he neared, and he had surprised himself. He was one of the first to arrive. But down the steep sides of the gorge, across the ancient river bed, there came more. Patiently he waited, for somewhere inside - like many of those coming today - he was intrigued. What was to be said, to be discussed?
His invisible thirst was quenched, however, once he ranks had swelled. One of the first two stallions had begun to speak. Darkmoon listened with interest, ears for once genuinely pricked forwards. When the speaker glanced around, as if nervous, the dark stag near the front sent him a silent, invisible encouragement, for what it was worth. He knew he was not important, in the scheme of things, and no doubt his enemies and his allies were bunched up somewhere in the crowd (he resisted the urge to glance around, thankful that he had outlived at least some of his enemies).
Silence fell for a moment, and Darkmoon wondered if he should speak. It was a meeting, after all, and everyone could have their say. He wasn’t going to stay silent out of nerves either. But what would he say? An idea flickered through his head, followed by another. Where was Lunarian? This was exactly the kind of thing that would suit the boy - the young stallion, now, not even so young anymore. On the other hand, if Lunarian wanted the post, he was sure the colt - no, not colt - would have the guts to step up himself.
Darkmoon
darkmoon
when he could love, the words were for ocean dreamer,
and when he could see, he thought he was black flaxen,
when he could hear them call his name, it was darkmoon,
while he was still alive, he had six living children, not all alive to he
Lunarian; Charge; Tariel; Astral Shock; Astro Zombie; Book of Shadows;
when he could remember, he had two grandchildren;
Honeycat and Converse
he had a herd, a land, a life -
and now, he is only the lost child of kits.
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