06-16-2017, 04:45 PM
It is rare to find them together.
Spear & Spark
Rarer still, to find them quiet and content.
More often than not, they are bickering and their faces are pinched tight in frowns and anger at one another.
The meadow finds them downright tranquil.
His head rests on her back as she makes wishes on the puffy heads of dandelions, knowing they are the last of summer’s weeds and flowers because each of them had caught the change in the air that signals the next season is coming. Neither of them makes mention of it; they are grown into themselves, a stallion and a mare, but not a stallion and his mare - no, never that, for they are twins, of a kind since they look nothing like one another save for their eyes. Both share the mismatch of red and black, and his left eye is the red while her red eye is the right.
Besides that;
Nothing else is a clear-cut sign that they are brother and sister, twins even. Their paint patterns are separate and unique, bay overo and black medicine hat tovero, and even their shapes are different. He is bulkier in muscle and build like their father, and she is slimmer and smaller than even their mother is, almost a pony in size. Ah, but they do share feathers from fetlock to hoof that is a sure sign of their father’s draft influence. But there, the similarities end because in the next instant the feathers on her fetlocks have become fire and Spear lifts his head sleepily from her back to chastise her with his teeth.
The fire calms down and disappears after a moment or more, shocked back into submission by his teeth on the skin of her shoulder as he grasps it in a dutiful pinch that reminds her to mind herself and her newfound power. She sighs, and goes back to blowing the heads off the dandelions with her hot fiery breath and he goes back to laying his head lazily over the pale flat plain of her back. Sometimes, he tilts his head just so to grab a mouthful of mane and he gives it a little tug that makes her mutter “ow!” under her breath before shaking her mane out of his mouth’s grasp.
Spear chuckles;
Spark mutters something about incorrigible brothers, and for a while, they are both relatively happy like they always used to be.