Common

The desert rose had finally bloomed.

Or so that was mother’s last teasing remarks as the proud painted woman turned away from the desert island. Twinge tried not to think of it as more than mere jesting, but still she could not help but worry as her dainty feet propelled her further and further from the familiar island of sand and rock and into the ocean. She had visited the shores often enough, especially on the brightest of hot summer days when the sun left the sands of Salem burning beneath it. Mother often brought her there, despite her own disdain for the water, to buck and kick and race through the cool ocean water. Though she did not share her mother’s over all complete displeasure in the ocean, Twinge had never truly liked the taste of the salt water or the feel it left behind on her skin as it dried. Perhaps it was the finality in her mother’s voice that made this journey, her first, all the more to her disliking.

And yet still she went. The urge to see the world had grown to a strong fierce flame in her soul, fanned by the distant rise of purple mountains over rolling seas. Paper thin nostrils flare as the woman of mahogany and white stifles the excitement that wanted to erupt from her lungs in a joyous squeal. Instead, she lets her attention focus on the constant motion of her hooves as they churned through the ocean currents. It was not until her hooves touched the palpable sands beneath her that she even realized that she had made it to another island. Small russet colored ears perk forward amid the tangle of black and white forelock that lay waterlogged across the flat of her brow. Droplets of water drip from the stringy ends of her mane and tail as cautiously she pulls herself from the shallow surf and onto the beach. Dark auburn eyes scan the serene landscape that lay before her, taking careful note of the thick green foliage that grew even as winter’s chill tugged at the zephyr winds. Salem had never experienced much in the form of winter or fall. Sure the winds that blew tended to have a crispness that summer lacked, occasionally she and the rest of the herd had awoken to a soft dusting of snow across the rock and sand landscape but overall, the changing of seasons did not appear to affect the island of Salem. Here, the world seemed so vastly different.

She was sure that any unknown creature who saw her now would think her odd, staring so fascinated and enraptured by the large trees draped in red and yellow hues. Surely they would see her expressive eyes and the tight lined smile on her lips as unusual, but she did not truly care. Harlequin may not have been able to instill all the skills necessary to live life alone, but she had at least given her daughter enough self-confidence that Twinge cared very little what others thought. Well, at least she tried to make it look that way anyway.

Haughtily she lifts her small dished muzzle, dark tendrils of her mane caressing the elegant curve of her cheek as she makes her way further away from the shores and through the ankle deep grass that flourished. Proudly she arches her neck, red and white forelegs pawing the earth beneath her as though she awaited some great race. She knew it was perhaps a foolish display, no doubt other mares were rolling their eyes and blowing an exasperated sigh at her but Twinge did not care. Rich brown gaze roams over the vast array of bodies that gathered together in loose groups, conversing on this subject or that but never loud enough that she could grasp more than a word or two. For the first time in a long time, the world lay open at her feet, all she needed to do was to reach out and grasp it.

And she would.