⬩ none ⬩
▻ none (x none) ◅
She is forever in the present, be it in memory or in reality. All things happening at all times, every memory remembered was reliving the very moment - but it was lucky for her that she had a brother like Kestrel. It was rare to find terrors to relive, although there were a few times of being scared of suddenly having no anchor for which she might measure life. Loneliness was not the only terrible thing about being alone for the little filly. A perfect memory, no comprehension or experience of time.
The perfect storm should anything truly happen to her badly. Every memory of negative tilt would be revived by any meager reminder-- but she would not only remember it… she would truly, fully, relive it.
She lifts her head up when she realizes that he is there, her Kestrel, and leaps to her little hooves the moment she hears her name in his comforting voice. She rushes to him with a scramble of gangly limbs. "I was just playing with Mom." She considers, doing as Kestrel taught her suddenly - looking for all the world that she had stopped in physical conversation mid-word. She stops, looks distant in her eyes and pauses. The place she’d nipped on her chest still stung from this morning. Morning. The sun had moved. She had not, indeed, been playing with mom minutes ago.
Her ears go to the sides, a bit ashamed, "I wasn’t just playing with mom." She tilts her head and shakes it, as if ridding herself of that sort of brain barricade where she might try and sense time’s passage by logic alone. "Where did you go?".
OF THE LOST ISLAND WILDS
▻ zero years - spanish and arabian x - palomino, bay carrier - 14.3 hh ◅