Though they seemed dormant, the kingdom was bursting with life around them. The trees had sprung forth new buds and the flowers their blooms. An unspoken promise of hope, a reminder they’d survived another year unscathed. Small animals came forth from their dens intent upon exploring the new landscape. Though the fires had once ravaged them, it had also fed them. The dead and dying had fed the new and thriving, a perfect example of the circle of life. At the center of it all was the Mother Tree, her golden branches waving jovially to any and all who’d care to visit them.
Mast moved easily through the dying light, enjoying the way the sun and the moon battled for position in the sky. The sun was losing spectacularly, though the reds and yellows and hues of orange were evidence of the valiant fight she’d put up. But her brother moon was cresting now, bringing with him his army of stars. The gray stallion smiled, ears flicking at the Whip Or’ Whils sang into the night around him. A contented sigh left his lips, and he almost allowed his eyes to flutter closed before a soft, unknown voice met his ears. It was but a whisper and he couldn’t make out the words, but it was there true enough. Curiosity quickly got the better of him and he made his way towards the voice, his eyes and ears tuned onto his surroundings. Usually a night time visitor was cause for alarm, but Mast felt this was different; something said to him their visitor meant them no ill will. Finally, he seems him. A gray like himself, but with more of a bluish hue about him. He almost seemed to glow in the dying light, whereas Mast’s gray coat simply blended in like a ghost. “Hello!” he called softly, a smile on his black muzzle. “I’m Mast. It’s not often we get night-time visitors.” he said with a chuckle, cocking a hind leg to show the stallion he too was relaxed and welcoming. “May I ask your name?” And so the gray stallion waited, swishing his tail lazily around his haunches.
mast
be my asleep at last