Cobblestone Creek
The herd who dwells within Cobblestone Creek is well provided for. A large wood smothers the land in thick trees and tall canopies, a few scattered clearings giving enough space for groupings to fit in the center together. There is a large cul-de-sac clearing that is lined by a deep bow in the creek which runs dry in hot summers so that one might see the cobblestone-like appearance of the creek bed. When the creek is dried, there is still hope in a smaller sister-stream running on the other side of the herd land.
This land is closed. No herds can live here.
if you drop me, i'll fall to pieces on you;
IP: 84.69.148.40
Posted on May 11, 2008 at 12:23:19 PM by cher
While Warfare may be teetering on the crumbling verge of fantasy and reality regarding what are apparently constant daydreams playing on the edge of his mind, for Cher, the trip is uneventful. She has been a part of Beqanna too long to maintain the childish novelty of the landscape, though patterned into the delicate streams of life even she cannot deny the presence of beauty scattered here and there. At one point in their journey, a crow soars directly at them, pulling up at the last second to vanish overhead. In that single faction of flurrying feathers, Cher’s mood lifts, and even – for a moment – her heart flutters with the wonder of flight like the silly light girl she really is.
She can admire the crow and yet still consider it inferior: admire its poise, swift reflexes and strong, curved beak while simultaneously being aware that it is, after all, much better to simply be her than wish for the bird’s characteristics. On earth the crow is no more clumsy than she, yet in the air it truly flaunts its incredible beauty. In the brief moment, dogged confusion floods the mare: could the crow have gained its airborne perfection through generations of honing the ability, or was it simply granted overnight by some celestial being? As always, the thinking does not last, and she makes a snap decision: the theory of evolution is more desirable than the theory of gods, because then the crow’s abilities would be the reward for hard work, and would not simply be.
‘Cobblestone Creek’ is not fulfilling enough a name for the land that greets the dapple grey as Warfare halts: ‘Meadow, Woodland, Orchard and Creek’ would be more appropriate. Despite the variety of terrains, the territory is enclosed rather than expanding, which – oddly – Cher likes: it makes it cosier. Easily the most distinguishable feature is the creek itself, running cleanly through the worn stones. Nature clings to the rocks in the form of moss, rotten logs and reeds. Several blue forget-me-nots hang perilously over the edge of the water.
Evidently Warfare is glad to be home, and Cher senses he is more at ease with his surroundings here than he had been at the field – as is only to be expected. He calls for ‘charity’, which Cher takes to be the name of another mare - the other mare – rather than the standard meaning. This, however, doesn’t stop her from producing a comeback. “Malnutrition?” She quips; “clearly we’re not homeless, and I see no other reason for begging donations.” It’s a joke. Now she’s away from the field and the recruiters, Cher has noticeably loosened up, although she still maintains her sharp gaze. There are some genetics, after all, that cannot be obliterated by an alternative environment.
cher --
if you drop me, i'll fall to pieces on you.
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