 Because we can. Wise men say that it is good for one to live as the simplest of creatures. They may or may not have been thinking of squirrels when they said that. But Camrynn is a creature of infinite curiosity. She wonders about everything, seeking out knowledge and answers wherever she can find them, teasing them out of the minds of horses on every reach of Beqanna (and beyond) like the finest of spider's silk. But there is only so much that they can know. The rest must be learned by experience. It is quiet when she finds the meadow. The grasses are long and tall at this time of year, waving lazily in the summer winds. It is hot, almost oppressively so, and the openness of the meadow offers little relief. She is as quiet as the meadow itself, hovering around the fringes, deciding what she wants to do next. It's then that she hears the small squeak and feels the acorn drop next to her. She turns her head to look at it, a tiny acorn next to her incongruously large (by comparison) hoof. Her gaze travels upward, finding a grey squirrel nestled in the branches above her, obviously having just lost what was intended to be dinner. She tilts her head, considering him as he starts to clamber down the trunk, making his half-graceful, half-ridiculous way to the ground. In the blink of an eye, the black mare is gone, replaced instead with a black squirrel. Her tail curves gracefully above her back, beautiful and silky. Her coat is uniform and dark. She's a beautiful mare, and she makes an equally beautiful squirrel. And she's decided she wants this other squirrel's nuts. Well, nut. She grabs it between her two tiny front paws, nose twitching as she stares him down. She briefly debates whether she can reasonably stick it into her mouth, ultimately deciding against it more because she'd hate to look so chubby than because she believes it's impossible. Instead, she clutches it tightly to her chest and tries to decide exactly how squirrels fight. Her advanced knowledge fails her, she can't pull anything useful from the other squirrel's mind, and she screws up her tiny squirrel-face as she tries to come up with a solution. So she chooses the solution that never fails. She decides to use her words. "THIS IS MINE NOW." She says confidently, commandingly, in remarkably fluent squirrel. There's just one problem: squirrels don't seem to have much in the way of language, or if they do, no one taught this poor grey squirrel. He looks at her like she's an alien, every muscle of his body absolutely terrified. For good measure, she hisses at him (a gentle hiss, meant to shoo him away more than to scare him further) and he takes off running like a bat out of hell. Oh well, No skin off her teeth. Or tail. Or whatever. Tucking the nut rather neatly between her teeth, she scampers up the tree and takes his place on the branch. It is cooler up here, she notes with interest. There is more of a breeze. And somehow, in this form, her coat isn't so hot – not that she's ever truly hot, being comfortable in every temperature is one of the best uses of magic, and one of the earliest she taught herself. Contented, she curls her tail around herself, looking out across the meadow as she prepares to take the first curious bite hard-won acorn. C A M R Y N N Why? Because I can Image copyright MariannaInsomnia |
I'm pretty sure this idea was all your fault in the first place
Feel free to ignore it XD