05-18-2016, 01:58 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-15-2018, 10:54 AM by Tashi.
Edit Reason: removing images/html
)
Sometimes she feels like feather; one that is carried along on a lofty and unpredictable breeze that drifts from place to place wherever the universe wills. For some time she had been a flighty little feather and she’d twirled around on a violent breeze in and out of various groups of other equines; and for a little time she had been a content little feather, at a standstill and nestled within whatever land or herd she found herself in.
The wind had stilled, for a little while.
But autumn was here again, and just as the vivid colors of the season intensified, so had her desire to fly. The wind stirred again. She felt it awaken with the change of seasons; a small twinge within her, that grew quickly like a wildfire. She’d paced for hours along a creek side hoping to quell it, but she couldn’t. Denying the wanderlust within her soul was an impossible feat, like denying the very air she breathed.
So she let the cool breeze take her away.
The field is new to her but familiar still the same – nothing appeared entirely out of the ordinary. She knew the brilliant fall colors that painted the trees and shrubs (reds, oranges, and yellows) and the smells of it too (flowers like the clumps of wild aster and damp, rain-soaked eath). She knows how the tall yellowing, grass hugs the curves of her slender body, and the feel of it beneath her rounded, heart-shaped hooves. But the skies are blue, and the air is fresh, not at all stifling.
Another cool breeze lifts off the field and wraps around the tawny dappled mare, twirling her lengthy black tresses in an almost caress against her. The breeze smelled of dry foliage and curing grasses, and the Lusitano mare inhales deeply. For a moment she forgets how lost she is in the world; a stray feather drifting from place to place, a girl with no-name and no past. For a moment she forgets what it is to drift on the wind, and for a moment beneath the vaguely warm autumn sun, Tashi just is.
That is until an unfamiliar voice reaches her delicate ears and her attention is drawn unwillingly away from the simple joy of autumn and to the equines dotting the expansive field before her. The whinnying call had not been directed to her she did not think, but to another somewhere across the field. Still it captured her interest and curiosity, as she steps forward with and airy and floating stride, fluted ears and bright eyes trained intently in the direction of the unknown caller. Who were they? Why were they calling? It was a trivial matter, but puzzling all the same.
After just a moment, the Spanish-bred mare releases a breath and halts, now further out into the field than she’d realized. Her ears twist and flick as she seems to lose interest in seeking out the other equine and she turns her attention the field immediately surrounding her, deep brown eyes wide as she glances keenly around and lets out a short, whinnying call of her own, calling for company.
The wind had stilled, for a little while.
But autumn was here again, and just as the vivid colors of the season intensified, so had her desire to fly. The wind stirred again. She felt it awaken with the change of seasons; a small twinge within her, that grew quickly like a wildfire. She’d paced for hours along a creek side hoping to quell it, but she couldn’t. Denying the wanderlust within her soul was an impossible feat, like denying the very air she breathed.
So she let the cool breeze take her away.
The field is new to her but familiar still the same – nothing appeared entirely out of the ordinary. She knew the brilliant fall colors that painted the trees and shrubs (reds, oranges, and yellows) and the smells of it too (flowers like the clumps of wild aster and damp, rain-soaked eath). She knows how the tall yellowing, grass hugs the curves of her slender body, and the feel of it beneath her rounded, heart-shaped hooves. But the skies are blue, and the air is fresh, not at all stifling.
Another cool breeze lifts off the field and wraps around the tawny dappled mare, twirling her lengthy black tresses in an almost caress against her. The breeze smelled of dry foliage and curing grasses, and the Lusitano mare inhales deeply. For a moment she forgets how lost she is in the world; a stray feather drifting from place to place, a girl with no-name and no past. For a moment she forgets what it is to drift on the wind, and for a moment beneath the vaguely warm autumn sun, Tashi just is.
That is until an unfamiliar voice reaches her delicate ears and her attention is drawn unwillingly away from the simple joy of autumn and to the equines dotting the expansive field before her. The whinnying call had not been directed to her she did not think, but to another somewhere across the field. Still it captured her interest and curiosity, as she steps forward with and airy and floating stride, fluted ears and bright eyes trained intently in the direction of the unknown caller. Who were they? Why were they calling? It was a trivial matter, but puzzling all the same.
After just a moment, the Spanish-bred mare releases a breath and halts, now further out into the field than she’d realized. Her ears twist and flick as she seems to lose interest in seeking out the other equine and she turns her attention the field immediately surrounding her, deep brown eyes wide as she glances keenly around and lets out a short, whinnying call of her own, calling for company.