i was born in the arms of imaginary friends,
free to roam; made a home out of everywhere i've been.
free to roam; made a home out of everywhere i've been.
The little girl had not been out the womb long. But what was peculiar is the smile that tangles across the little palomino's lips. She is perhaps only days old but she seemed perfectly content playing in the dirt, surrounded by tall grasses. Little lifts and falls of the song she hummed to herself carried on the warmth of the fresh spring breeze as tiny hooves made -thud thud- noises as she patted together a mud cake. On the occasion, a butterfly would drift drunkenly by and land on the pearly white mane or the tip of a golden ear. Little Maribel would giggle and roll her eyes to see the insect, oblivious to much else than her work at making the dirt pies.
Despite her solitude, the child did not seemed bothered by the fact her mother had birthed her here. The creamy yellow woman rather bluntly explained for the girl to stay and that someone would be along to fetch her. That was it. Plain and simple. So the tiny child sat on her rear end, fore legs splayed and patting in the mud. The small head tossed back and forth in tune with the little song she sung to herself.
Pale blue pools occasionally lifted when she thought she heard the sound of hooves. The woman who had stayed with her (her mother) did not say more than for Maribel to sit still. The child did not recognize the pale sun colored woman as her mother as the mare frequented her time away and so Maribel occupied herself with chasing bugs and nibbling on wildflowers. Winzy would return and let the child suckle though refrain from speaking to her till Maribel's meal was finished then the woman would go off again and the child would bed down.
Now in these moments the child did not realize that she took on her surroundings and by way of that Maribel would blend in. Her coat would shift to the colors as protection, like camouflage. She did not seem to realize it yet as every morning when she woke and stretched, she would turn back to the golden palomino. Occasionally she would notice a tint of green but her child's mind did not think much of it.
But now on this particular day, the colors of lavender and gold swept around her in a furious bloom of spring. As the little hooves plopped in the mud, Maribel stretches the tiny nose over to a pretty buttercup to give a curious sniff. As she does so, her muzzle begins to turn gold! Big blue eyes widen but she is not afraid, just curious. The gold slides over her body fluidly. Mane. Tail. Hooves. She laughs and laughs at this new trick! The little muzzle moves to touch a cornflower and suddenly the soft blue is replacing the gold! How fun! After some more experimenting, the child realizes she can change colors. It is wild at first with the mixture of blues and green and purples and pinks. She soon realizes she can will this, not change colors because of her background. Maribel finds this quite amusing and laughs as she shifts to the very muddy brown that she was currently playing in. A mud baby indeed!
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