♦ Fynnegan ♦
I am tired, I really just want to lie down and sleep, take a nap, hold up a tree, anything but walk really. I have been looking everywhere for Weir. I have known him long enough now that I don’t think he would just up and leave me, something must be wrong. See, we were in Gates talking chatting with Magnus and little Amorette. I looked away to talk to Magnus, I couldn’t have been talking to him for more than a minute and when I looked back my tall reddish friend was gone. At first I thought he was playing a joke. I laughed and called for him to come out of hiding. We all looked around, made a game of it. Though I found the game short lived- Weir was not playing… he was gone. I was annoyed; I will not hide that fact. I had thought the tall one my friend- but a friend would not leave you behind. No, maybe I was not so fortunate in my chosen company.
I left Gates after not being able to find Weir, I tried to end things well, I said I was off to figure out what Weir had gotten himself into., I don’t know if they believed it. So I have been walking, looking, searching. I have looked in the field were we met, I have looked in the meadow, where I ran into the interesting young mare, Esileif, that interaction had not gone like his meeting with Weir. The young girl, in her frustrations had been very rude. Though, I must admit I didn’t handle it well either. I did manage to salvage that meeting, who knows- maybe the girl will visit Dale- as he had talked of it. Anyway, I didn’t see him at the meadow, or the forest, or the beach, or well- anywhere. I had grown more and more concerned, and less and less upset with my friend. I had only one place left to look- the Dale. So I walked, again.
See why a little short thing like me might be tired? That is a lot of terrain to cover on little legs. But I had made it; I was at the Dale. Weir’s words from Gates ran through my mind, about not entering, and waiting to be welcomed in. I stopped at the boundary; I had no claim here, so I really should wait. I pawed at the dirt, and look anxiously around. It my friend is in trouble, or there is something wrong- I wish not to wait here and see what kind of welcome I would get. I exhaled- like I it had released some form of protection around me and I pushed onward. I started calling out for Weir. I am sure I drew much attention. I am sure there are alarms ringing somewhere—Intruder! Intruder! But Weir could be in trouble, and I must find him.
The Dale is gorgeous right now- fall definitely looked good on this place. Lush grasses, shady spaces, and vibrant colors- it is very welcoming and I thought about just lying down and having that nap. But I couldn’t, not until I figured out what happened to Weir. I swear I have searched this place for a rather long time- but he is nowhere. But then I saw him lift his head off in the distance, he looked confused, and he stood up like a baby would for the first time. What was wrong with him? How had he gotten back here? Weir looks sad… and is it snowing around him?!?! It was definitely time to get answers.
I ran to him, excited that the search was over, and curious to find out my answers. My words ran a mile a minute. I don’t think I even gave Weir a chance to answer a single one in-between, but I just had so many questions. ”WEIR!!! What happened? Where have you been? Did you forget about me, I thought you were playing a game for a bit. Why is it snowing? Do you have any idea how long it takes a little thing like me to search BQ? It takes a long while- let me tell you. I met the strangest lass on my search for you- remind me to tell you sometime. Why do you look so sad? I was mad for a while, but then I just got worried, but now I’m just glad to have found you- finally. And I’m so so tired…. Why is it sno…ow…..wing?”
I realized that I was in a free fall of words as my yawn interrupted my spiral. I shook away the yawn with a shake of my head. I didn’t apologize- as my questions and concerns were valid. I looked up at my reddish friend with a fused blend of concern, relief, and tiredness and awaited his response.
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