She has been aloof; caught up on the nostalgia of a life she never got to truly live. Her heart has spent days, weeks, maybe months aching over the fact she has done nothing but wallow in the shadows and hide amongst the stars. Exemplary, our beautiful agile doe, has spent a large amount of her life being adequate.
She weaves around the tall evergreens that block the animal paved trail, only worn enough to leave a very thinly lined indent in the forest floor. Her black frame is elegant and ghost like, hauntingly floating along like a misguided ballet dancer. Her fragile body is sleek from her morning wade in the lake only north of the meadow, still drying from having been soaked for so long.
Sometimes, when things feel unbearable and her body feels numb, Exemplary finds herself wafting so deep in the water that her neck needs to stretch to keep herself above the waterline. It’s a feeling not easily explained, like her soul is cleansed after every inch of her body is washed with fresh water. It is the only thing right now that gets her through the day… like a child needs their morning snack to make it past noon.
She finds herself entering the border of the meadow, clearly subconsciously needing a change of scenery. Lately her happiest place had been deep within the brush and forestry, unseen or heard of and happily off the map. Her normal self, introverted and quiet, had flourished in that sort of environment.
But here she is, off gallivanting beyond emerald trees and a musky pine scent. Replacing the familiar with the daunting smell of fresh blooming flowers and an odd scent of masculinity.
She had seldom associated with men. The one time she did it was Tarnished, one whom had treated her with an eerie sense of respect but he was all too reserved for her to get much more. Her meetings had been brief and their conversations short, probably for the better anyway. He was far beyond her, so much more capable in comparison.
And so her awkwardness filled the air when she found herself crossing trails with a strange male.
He had an odd aura, a very uncategorised energy. She could not place a finger on his character, this man was undeniably unreadable. It made her feel out of place, and even a little lost in his presence. Exemplary didn’t feel threatened, no. She just felt like the air to his body had an intriguing smell.
Our little doe always came off ordinary. Beautiful, dainty, elegant, feminine; all the flags for your classic Black Beauty. Her air was thick with fairies and pixie dust, and her eyes a crystal glaze of hazel. Yes she came off quite the typical character to every horse lover’s dream novel, but she doesn’t escape reality in the centre of a lake because she is perfect.
And maybe that is her biggest flaw of all; false advertisement. Those who don’t care to learn about her don’t meet her. And those who do care, the few who do, are the few who don’t want to sign up on the insanity train. Her issues are less, her drama is bare, but her heart isn’t full even if her frame appears healthy. She is stalked by the monster they call depression, and he rides on her back like a skilled bronc champion.
Exemplary is an intriguing mystery without any clues left for those few detectives to follow.
She sees his eyes, so focused on something beyond her vantage point, and finds her body floating to his side. She arrives shoulder to shoulder, a fair distance away but not too fair to be out of reach. If he tried he could brush her lightly with the very tip of his muzzle, but not close enough to put her within harms reach.
She doesn’t dance with the devil, often.
“Hello,” her voice is silvery and thin, so suiting to her feminine aura. She doesn’t meet his eyes, unsure of if he was even searching for them. Instead, she follows his distant gaze. A distant gored body assists in flourishing insects and feeding scavengers, her stomach does the slightest of turns; so slight that he wouldn’t be able to pick up on her true discomfort, but might sense her hesitation in stance.
“Quite the sight,” though she felt he had seen it before. In her peripherals she saw his dullness, his lack of spark. It made her think of herself, behind closed doors and drawn shades. He wasn’t afraid to show emotion, to show darkness. But she was. She was petrified of what she was slowly becoming. Or not becoming.
She was terrified she was just being and not living.
Exemplary
I will be yours, and only yours, until the day I fade to black