12-12-2017, 10:31 PM
Oh Darling, let’s be adventurers
The sky was brilliant blue, filled with the most pillowy cumulous clouds she had seen in some time. He black hooves skimmed the surface scattered a thousand water droplets from their precarious perch as they clung to each other and the dust that existed even in the air. Her legs moved as if she were walking across the clouds and the water lightly sprayed her coat as she continued to maneuver through the puffs of white. Grey head lifted up basking in the summer sun, eyes closed concealing her hazel eyes from damaging rays, but that didn’t mean the lady didn’t enjoy the warmth that kissed her skin in a million gentle caresses. As she excelled she slowly opened her eyes keeping her eyes focused on the clouds but her daydream shattered leaving her firmly planted on the ground. One day...one day I’ll fly among the clouds. Her voice was soft, barely a whisper but the longing was saturated within every syllable. Instead of the blue skies the dreamer found herself in the the rolling hills of the meadow. Her feet firmly against the green grasses, that stretched to the tree line a varying heights along the expanse.
Waxwing was young, just 3 years old, but she had been alone for most of those time, which was probably where her rich imagination came from. She was left to entertain and fill the void that others would have filled on her own. Why the sky ended up as her main fixation she was unsure but now it was her favorite daydream and she often was lost in thoughts of flying away to some new exotic place and the grand adventures she would have, if only she could. But for now she was ready for a new adventure, a new home. Her lean muscles flexed and stretched as she took the steps forward into the heart of the meadow, carrying over the gentle slopes towards the more populated areas. There were sounds of conversation, laughter, and grazing. THere were a few huddled with stern looks and an air of tension dissipated from their cluster or fur and words. Other groups were jovial and light.The young mare steered clear of both, wanting first to take in the sights and sound and wait for an opportunity than to barge into a preexisting conversation. These lands were surely rich in nutrients, but also experiences waiting for the little grey mare. And for once, Waxwing was content, as the adventure was tangible, and the beginning was always her favorite part.
Waxwing