Falls
Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.
Posted on August 23, 2015 at 03:53:39 AM by jezibelle
 bay blanketed mare of nowhere “Once upon a time there was a filly,” Jezibelle whispered to herself as she traveled, alone, across the cropped meadow on the far side of the Falls. The night was brisk and the sky above her clear and endless, stretching for miles without clouds in every direction. The stars winked at her from above and there, hanging midway between the zenith and horizon of the sky, sat the fat white moon.
Her hooves made a soft sound each time they pressed against the hardening earth. Winter would be here soon, but her coat was warm and her feathers thick; she did not fear the cold. “She lived alone, in a place with many, many trees. These trees were touched by sunlight.” Sunlight, she repeated to herself. Jezibelle preferred the night and its soft lights. “She had many friends in these trees. Little sun-sprites, tiny beings that floated like motes through the beams that cut through the canopy.” She was rehearsing. This was not the first time she had told herself this story, although it had been many years indeed since she had vocalized it, and never before had it brought such a warm smile to her long face. “They loved her. These sprites raised her in light and with hope, and when they sent her off into the world it was with much anticipation. You see, Rurisk, this filly had been a hollow horse for as long as she’d been alive. Her father worshipped the sun but she found its rays too bright, too invasive. Too intense. His shadow was much to dark, nearly as dark as a night beneath the canopy. It was so dark under the trees at night. So very, very dark: the only company to be found were the sounds of horses who couldn’t see or hear or smell this filly, and she felt so alone.” Jezibelle paused and lifted her head up, up, holding it higher than the level of her shoulders for a rare and brief time as she scanned the field before her. Her brother was not with her: to him, she had made a request, and they had parted ways so that he might complete it for her. The blanketed mare’s breath plumed before her as she exhaled a large, content sigh. “The day the filly left the forest was a momentous one. The sprites wished her well, and sent her off with all of their love. They told her to keep watch for their cousins when the sun set, for they would love her as much as the sunsprites did. And the filly watched for them, that first night she slept alone, and felt lonely not at all. For the sky was full of stars, brilliant little specks of light that scattered so far and wide above her that she could not possibly be alone.” She rehearsed now to prepare a gift for her brother. For all that he had done for her since they found one another again on the main land —for Jezibelle had spent her entire adult life seeking her sibling, longing to ease the pain she knew festered within him. “There came a night when clouds hid the stars from her, and for several nights after she despaired at ever seeing them again, so dense was the darkness in her sky. But one night, the wind woke her from sleep, whispered wake, wake as it tangled in her long hair. So the filly woke, and when she opened her eyes there was a light near as bright as the sun illuminating all of the land. She looked up.” Jezibelle looked up. “And there it was: the moon, the biggest and brightest light she had ever seen in the night, his light so soft and gentle that she could stare at his glory for as long as she desired without fear of going blind. For she had a sister, this filly did, who had looked too long at the sun and woke one day without sight in her left eye. The filly had no wish to worship the sun as her father and sister did: it seemed a violent thing, without mercy. But the moon, oh, the moon,” and here the mare’s voice lifted with longing. “How she loved her moon.” “It was not always in the sky. Sometimes it was not even whole, and seemed to change paths often. Once in awhile she spotted him during the day. And never again did the filly feel alone.” She paused in both step and story and frowned. Rurisk should be in the story as well, not just Impazienza and Kisei. The bay mare stood with her blanket glowing in the moonlight, brow furrowed and ears forward as she debated how best to include her brother in her fairy tale. It would be the first story she told with him in it, and she hoped to tell more that involved him. But this would be the first, and she was determined to make it memorable. |
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- [x] - By Uforia September 13, 2015 at 04:51:25 PM
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