aurora -----
by covet out of raya
She has spent the day under cover of the biggest tree she could find, as she always has to when it’s sunny. Life has not been easy for Aurora, and now that she’s finally on her own, she can appreciate just how much pain her mother had saved her from. She misses her parents but she knows it hadn’t been easy for them to see her struggle. She knows it’d been the right time to remove the burden of looking after her so that they could concentrate on their love for each other, which had never waned.
She sighs as she thinks of the looks they’d given each other when they thought she couldn’t see. She’d love to know that feeling, but even though her mother had assured her that she would one day, Aurora isn’t so sure. She has no idea how anybody would react to the idea of her vulnerability and if it weren’t for the fact that it isn’t a good idea to be on her own for long, she may have delayed meeting anyone for quite a while.
Now that it’s twilight, the time of day that hurts her eyes the least, she can come out into the open. It’s a narrow window before it gets too dark and her sight fails her, but at least it gives her a chance to look at the sky without tearing up. She steps out from under the tree, a willow today, her head bent low just in case the sun hasn’t completely dropped below the horizon yet. She snatches a few mouthfuls of grass before risking a glance upward. Reassured at the all clear, she breathes out contentedly, her slightly cloudy brown eyes sweeping the landscape.
Her golden ears twitch as her attention is almost immediately drawn by two voices, an older male and a younger female. She smiles slightly as it reminds her of how she’d been with her father. Their voices carry on the mostly open plain, and she can hear snippets of a conversation that is similar to one she’d often had with Covet, when he hadn’t wanted her to stray far at the worst times of day for her eyes.
The light is already fading so it’s hard for her to make them out, but she thinks she can see one that’s gold like her and a paler one that reminds her of her mother. “Excuse me,” she calls out, unable to tell exactly how far away they are. It’s a good thing she’d chosen a willow as her shade today; it makes her happy to be able to help a father and daughter (as she assumes they are) the way that her parents had taught her by example. “There’s a willow tree over here that’ll make a nice place to rest for the night.”
She ambles back to the tree, the darkness creeping up on her faster than she’d expected. It would do her no good to not be able to find her way back immediately after mentioning it to others. She tucks herself right up against the trunk so that she has a point of reference while her sight is gone. She assumes the pair she’d heard will make their way over, and since it won’t make any difference whether her eyes are open or not, she decides to close them. The rest of her body remains alert, knowing it’s not time for sleep yet.
three - palomino roan - mixed - 15.2hh |