Astana’s world had been so small in the beginning. She had known only her mother, her father, and her twin sister. They had all been contained to their little desert home. Astana had spent her entire life until this very point exploring the every rolling dunes and making trips to the Oasis where she and her twin sister would splash around in the water, enjoying a break from the heat. They would play hide and go seek in the foliage of the Oasis, sneaking up on each other only to erupt in a series of girlish giggles when they would find one another. It was the makings to be the perfect childhood. But Astana had earned her mother’s wandering heart and wanderlust burned like fire in her veins. She was anything but content to remain in her sandy home forever, building sandcastles and watching the sun set over the dunes.
And so she had left the desert and made her way to the outer edges, only to catch sight of a black colt with eyes like spring time moving along, as if he had all the freedom in the world. He looked like he was going on an adventure and Astana was just dying to find out what it was. Without delay she immediately marched off and had been walking ever since, only stopping when she arrived in this strange new land.
She saw great sights on her way here, but there had been a part of her that hoped this mysterious black colt with green eyes like two tiny emeralds was leading her towards the ocean. Much to her disappointment, this was not the case. Astana thought perhaps maybe she was not destined to see the endless blue water splayed out before her like a tangible infinity. She would just have to live in the images of her mother’s stories and the dreams she had shared with her.
She wiggles and moves, trying to work warmth back into her legs. The desert child made from gold was certainly was not accustomed to the cold climates. But Astana thinks nothing of being alone, she sees no danger in it, she holds no fear in this big and new land that splays around her. She is content to simply stand beside the river, even if she was currently a bit cold. Astana takes in the world just a single piece at a time.
And it seemed as if a new piece were about to be added, and her world grows by one.
She really needs to learn to start paying better attention. But in Astana’s world, monsters existed in stories and the boogie man had an ugly face. Monsters were so easily spotted, so when a stranger finds her beside the rivers, she jumps in surprise, but smiles with joy. That golden face illuminating as the sun sparkles off of it. Its rays find her eyes and send a multitude of colors gleaming as she looks into his brown eyes. “Hello,” she says then, all at once stopping her dancing and bringing her legs close together, as if to provide some illusion that she had never been dancing around in the first place with such careless abandon in an attempt to warm her tiny body. She tilts her head then with a lilting tone of laugh brushing against her lips. “No, I don't think so, I very well may have to wait until spring,” she says. “My home was warm allll the time, I’m from the desert,” she adds. “You’re Torryn,” she says, nods, repeating his own name on her tongue as if to gauge the feeling of it. So little of names ran through the mind of the little girl that each new one she obtained was like a little trinket she was able to keep tied to her memory. “Okay, that’s cute, I think,” she says, nods again, not entirely sure what she means, just knowing it is a word she has heard her parents speak, always in a kind tone. “Where are you from?” She asks, extending that little nose forward, as if maybe she could gain a hint. She pulls back then, looking up at him with diamond eyes speckled with flakes of sapphire. “I’m Astana, I come from far away.”
And so she had left the desert and made her way to the outer edges, only to catch sight of a black colt with eyes like spring time moving along, as if he had all the freedom in the world. He looked like he was going on an adventure and Astana was just dying to find out what it was. Without delay she immediately marched off and had been walking ever since, only stopping when she arrived in this strange new land.
She saw great sights on her way here, but there had been a part of her that hoped this mysterious black colt with green eyes like two tiny emeralds was leading her towards the ocean. Much to her disappointment, this was not the case. Astana thought perhaps maybe she was not destined to see the endless blue water splayed out before her like a tangible infinity. She would just have to live in the images of her mother’s stories and the dreams she had shared with her.
She wiggles and moves, trying to work warmth back into her legs. The desert child made from gold was certainly was not accustomed to the cold climates. But Astana thinks nothing of being alone, she sees no danger in it, she holds no fear in this big and new land that splays around her. She is content to simply stand beside the river, even if she was currently a bit cold. Astana takes in the world just a single piece at a time.
And it seemed as if a new piece were about to be added, and her world grows by one.
She really needs to learn to start paying better attention. But in Astana’s world, monsters existed in stories and the boogie man had an ugly face. Monsters were so easily spotted, so when a stranger finds her beside the rivers, she jumps in surprise, but smiles with joy. That golden face illuminating as the sun sparkles off of it. Its rays find her eyes and send a multitude of colors gleaming as she looks into his brown eyes. “Hello,” she says then, all at once stopping her dancing and bringing her legs close together, as if to provide some illusion that she had never been dancing around in the first place with such careless abandon in an attempt to warm her tiny body. She tilts her head then with a lilting tone of laugh brushing against her lips. “No, I don't think so, I very well may have to wait until spring,” she says. “My home was warm allll the time, I’m from the desert,” she adds. “You’re Torryn,” she says, nods, repeating his own name on her tongue as if to gauge the feeling of it. So little of names ran through the mind of the little girl that each new one she obtained was like a little trinket she was able to keep tied to her memory. “Okay, that’s cute, I think,” she says, nods again, not entirely sure what she means, just knowing it is a word she has heard her parents speak, always in a kind tone. “Where are you from?” She asks, extending that little nose forward, as if maybe she could gain a hint. She pulls back then, looking up at him with diamond eyes speckled with flakes of sapphire. “I’m Astana, I come from far away.”