steady as a preacher, free as a weed…
--couldn‘t wait to get goin‘ but wasn‘t quite ready to leave
She was not meant for anything, at least nothing noteworthy. But she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt though that she was meant to run. She was meant to taste all that the world had to offer, to run from one corner of the other and back again for good measure. There was nothing too far for her, not even the stars. She’d taste them too (bitter, probably; but exotic and otherworldly). She would even let the flames of the sun lick her ankles, just to say she had. While she may not have been born for the world, the world had certainly been born for her.
The mare speaks and Topsail feels the air shift, feels the static become almost palpable. “Yes! That was me!” she thinks, though her voice sounds broken and muffled, like she was underwater. She shakes her head as if to clear bothersome flies, but its of no use- the static remains, pressing on her mind unpleasantly. The filly is at the point of turning away when the mare, now known as Etro, lowers her head and smiles. While Topsail may have had the tendencies of a weed, she was not rude. So she stayed, doing her best to ignore whatever hung in the air between them. Despite having limited practice, she had never encountered such trouble getting her words through. The world hadn’t saw fit to give her a traditional voice, though she’d tried that too. All that came through were squeaks and mewls and whimpers; it was if an iron fist was wrapped around her vocal cords. But now the same fist seemed to be moving to her mind, and for a moment she was scared. “Are you doing this to me?” she asked loudly, her tone bordering on the thin edge of anger. For good measure she pins her small ears and narrows her eyes, her frown deepening at the mare. “This is the only way I know how to talk…you’re making me fuzzy Etro…” Her voice softens slightly, for she had taken notice of the sadness the mare was now wearing. Had their not been so much interference perhaps Topsail could have felt it. For now though, all that she felt was the static and hum of an unknown electricity.
topsail