02-24-2018, 10:46 PM
Smoke and Mirrors
The air had grown colder. All around her the hiding filly had began to notice the world as the season shifted from summer into autumn. The skies were grayer, and the grass seemed browner. Small animals and predators alike moved with a confusing urgency. Maiven had been just a small filly the first time this happened and the whole affair was frightening. Without her mother to guide her she wasn’t sure what to do. For a week she had searched in vain for any sign of her family. She kept hoping to hear them calling her name, kept longing to see their familiar faces materialize before her.
Eventually she had found herself in a completely unfamiliar part of Beqanna. At the edge of a meadow she’d stared out at the expanse of rolling hills. The landscape was dotted with distant figures too far away to hear her cries for help. Destitute and alone she’d sunken into the nearest clump of trees and underbrush to lie down and wait.
Surely she couldn’t have wandered too far away. Surely they would come for her soon, give her a quick reprimand and take her swiftly back under their wings of protection. The little filly shivered. Night was almost upon her and the chill was growing thicker. She was lost, alone and afraid.
The flowers wound through her mane had wilted, matching her mood, and the grass beneath her had browned in her gloom. Even the trees had began to feel the effect of her mood. She would have to move soon to avoid getting noticed by predators, both the kind with teeth and hooves.
Maiven
