are the dead really silent?
I watched curiously as the first filly reacted to me. Her ears flicked back in anger and warning when she had been the first to demand from me. I am confused by her reactions. I had not meant harm, there was nothing about me and my approach that would have inspired her to mistrust me. My gaze lingers on her as I study her, unsure of what the spirits around me whispered as they danced around her, too. There was something to be watched, and something to be careful of with her.
The sister was the first to speak, however, and once more I could feel the smile grow on my lips. It was exciting to be meeting and speaking with others who spoke back in earthly tones. It seemed like those from beyond the veil never seemed to want to give up their secrets, no matter how much you asked. Milky eyes meet mine, I step forward to greet her with my white nose, letting her know where I was. My breath was friendly, excited that she had accepted to walk a path and take a journey with me. “Good to meet you, Maziel, and Mariael. Follow me!” I spun back along the path I had come, taking a turn off it to start a new adventure. The scents and sounds of the world around me would lead me to safer trails, of that I was sure. If you knew how to listen to the voices of the divine, you could find your way in the strangest of worlds. I made sure to keep close to the pair, unaware of how they travelled together, or what they saw of the world. I knew from tales of old, it was my duty to protect them, it was a voice that came from within me.
As we stepped through the stoney terrain, my attention flicks again to Mariael, my head tilting to the side in confusion. “Cruelty and kindness are twins, hand in hand. One to one, the opposite to another.” So the songs of the dead have taught me. “I would not mean to harm you.” My gaze shifts to lock onto her’s. “Anything I do, I know will be repaid.” I look back to the quieter sister, more excited by her willing sense of adventure. “Shall we venture up, or shall we venture down? To the shores or to the land?” I reach out again to touch her gently, remembering the careful, comforting, caresses or my parents. I leave the choice of our fates in the hands of one whose will I hoped would be unbridled.
 gypsy vanner mutt; XY; perlino tobiano; newborn; 15’3hh wfg; pagan x peyton |