02-16-2021, 05:59 PM
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<p class="tornado_quote">Tornados from a butterfly's wing</p>
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Her head listed in the dark, uncertain if she'd heard something. Heard, or felt. Absently, the gemstone mare dropped her muzzle back against the back of her daughter, convinced that she had dreamt whatever notion had woken her. Until it came again, and this time it could not be mistaken for anything but what it was.
Distress, thin and reedy, pulled at the edge of her mind as if from very far away. It's shaped like Fear, all jagged and sharp, but the color is wrong. It's as if the Fear has gone on too long, has faded from its immediate, caustic orange and into something duller; browned and curled around the edges like a leaf too long deprived of water. Deprived of hope. It's a call she can't ignore.
Glancing at the abstract shapes she knows are her loved ones, the night-dark mare extricated herself from the huddle with care. It was hard to judge the distance she would have to go to find the Caller, and she couldn't guess how long helping them would take, if any help could be given. So she contented herself with half-waking a bedfellow, and whispering in their ear that she would return, soon as she was able. A fragment of Comfort was tucked in with her words. Enough to see them through, she hoped.
Her hoof-falls always sounded too loud these days. Every noise was amplified in the dark, ears compensating for lacking eyes. Every creaking tree limb, every wistful birdcall, they all made her heart quake. It would be when she let her guard down that the noise would turn out to be something less than benign.
Ama hummed a bar of music, then gave it up. Too loud, again, and it was making her more anxious, not less. Instead, she tried to focus on the fading signal she'd been tracking. Tried to orient herself in the dark so she could find her way home later. In doing so, she realized that the way she was going was a way she'd gone before, not terribly long ago.
"Oh, that can't be good..." She murmured, trepidation gripping her. This was the path to the Mountain. Or the lands beyond it, if she wanted to be optimistic, but somehow she couldn't find it in her to be so. Why on earth would it be anywhere else? She paused, wondering if it was too late to turn back, and knowing she couldn't. Not if there was a chance she could help in some way. If it was the Mountain that the Distress had emanated from, then surely it was emotion on the largest scale.
She dithered a moment longer, before forcing her feet to move forward again. The slivered ring that was once the sun dipped in and out of view as she moved, angry and red where the remnants of light leaked through. A sick, diseased looking thing that had made their whole world sick with it. How long could they live like this?
Her children had already encountered the creatures in the dark, Cheri almost having been dragged off by them. If not for lucky passerby, Ama had no doubt that would have been the last of her bright-eyed daughter.
How many other mother's were now facing the same reality? She shivered at the dark, feeling it closer by than she had a moment before. It was not empty darkness that she feared. It was the grim truth the darkness sheltered, and nurtured. The Fear and Depression it cultivated like fat weeds in the soil of their minds. It was so hard to combat these things when she herself was losing the same battle on her own grounds. Lifting up the minds of others had been growing increasingly difficult, especially since she and Yan had returned from their doomed trip up the Mountain before. Now she was preparing to make that same trip again, for reasons she hardly knew.
A snapping branch, a murmured voice, and she shrilled a startled whinny before pulling herself back in. There is the sense that she is no longer alone. She had walked into a gathering of sorts, and their emotional signatures impressed on her mind as she came to a halt among them. Blinking hard at the dark, she tried to make them out and failed. All except.... There is a familiar trace. Her head swiveled to where it emits from, concern creasing her brow.
"Mem, what are you doing here?" She asked, voice low. One foot raised, ready to step until she change her mind. Too likely that she will walk right into someone else right now. Borderline will be worried sick when she realizes her daughter has wandered so far. This is no safe place for any soul. She will see Memorie brought safely home, once they know why they've all gathered in this damned place. Or sooner, if it seemed they'd been lured into a trap. That was the greater likelihood, she realized with some distress of her own.
<p class="tornado_name"> ...Amarine</p>
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<p class="tornado_quote">Tornados from a butterfly's wing</p>
<div class="tornado_message">
Her head listed in the dark, uncertain if she'd heard something. Heard, or felt. Absently, the gemstone mare dropped her muzzle back against the back of her daughter, convinced that she had dreamt whatever notion had woken her. Until it came again, and this time it could not be mistaken for anything but what it was.
Distress, thin and reedy, pulled at the edge of her mind as if from very far away. It's shaped like Fear, all jagged and sharp, but the color is wrong. It's as if the Fear has gone on too long, has faded from its immediate, caustic orange and into something duller; browned and curled around the edges like a leaf too long deprived of water. Deprived of hope. It's a call she can't ignore.
Glancing at the abstract shapes she knows are her loved ones, the night-dark mare extricated herself from the huddle with care. It was hard to judge the distance she would have to go to find the Caller, and she couldn't guess how long helping them would take, if any help could be given. So she contented herself with half-waking a bedfellow, and whispering in their ear that she would return, soon as she was able. A fragment of Comfort was tucked in with her words. Enough to see them through, she hoped.
Her hoof-falls always sounded too loud these days. Every noise was amplified in the dark, ears compensating for lacking eyes. Every creaking tree limb, every wistful birdcall, they all made her heart quake. It would be when she let her guard down that the noise would turn out to be something less than benign.
Ama hummed a bar of music, then gave it up. Too loud, again, and it was making her more anxious, not less. Instead, she tried to focus on the fading signal she'd been tracking. Tried to orient herself in the dark so she could find her way home later. In doing so, she realized that the way she was going was a way she'd gone before, not terribly long ago.
"Oh, that can't be good..." She murmured, trepidation gripping her. This was the path to the Mountain. Or the lands beyond it, if she wanted to be optimistic, but somehow she couldn't find it in her to be so. Why on earth would it be anywhere else? She paused, wondering if it was too late to turn back, and knowing she couldn't. Not if there was a chance she could help in some way. If it was the Mountain that the Distress had emanated from, then surely it was emotion on the largest scale.
She dithered a moment longer, before forcing her feet to move forward again. The slivered ring that was once the sun dipped in and out of view as she moved, angry and red where the remnants of light leaked through. A sick, diseased looking thing that had made their whole world sick with it. How long could they live like this?
Her children had already encountered the creatures in the dark, Cheri almost having been dragged off by them. If not for lucky passerby, Ama had no doubt that would have been the last of her bright-eyed daughter.
How many other mother's were now facing the same reality? She shivered at the dark, feeling it closer by than she had a moment before. It was not empty darkness that she feared. It was the grim truth the darkness sheltered, and nurtured. The Fear and Depression it cultivated like fat weeds in the soil of their minds. It was so hard to combat these things when she herself was losing the same battle on her own grounds. Lifting up the minds of others had been growing increasingly difficult, especially since she and Yan had returned from their doomed trip up the Mountain before. Now she was preparing to make that same trip again, for reasons she hardly knew.
A snapping branch, a murmured voice, and she shrilled a startled whinny before pulling herself back in. There is the sense that she is no longer alone. She had walked into a gathering of sorts, and their emotional signatures impressed on her mind as she came to a halt among them. Blinking hard at the dark, she tried to make them out and failed. All except.... There is a familiar trace. Her head swiveled to where it emits from, concern creasing her brow.
"Mem, what are you doing here?" She asked, voice low. One foot raised, ready to step until she change her mind. Too likely that she will walk right into someone else right now. Borderline will be worried sick when she realizes her daughter has wandered so far. This is no safe place for any soul. She will see Memorie brought safely home, once they know why they've all gathered in this damned place. Or sooner, if it seemed they'd been lured into a trap. That was the greater likelihood, she realized with some distress of her own.
<p class="tornado_name"> ...Amarine</p>
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