i counted the stars tonight, i gathered them all
Mother was… someplace. Nothing significant to herself. The flecked filly was left in this place, alone. Enjoying the distance from others. Cloistered in her little hide away she watches mystified by those that hustle about in the cold. It’s her first winter, her first snow, and all was soundless in her little world of dreams. Only the crunch of nearby hooves interrupts her blissful reality. Silence She hisses at the apparition.
It was interrupting her again. This little piece of light manifested horse. It was cold, and oddly annoying to Oricle. Turning slowly, each step filled with a purpose. Every breath obstructing her hearing. It’s not until she is facing the colt does she attempt any sort of civility. Even this is simply a thin line on her lips acknowledging his existence. Oricle, delicate with measured thought she tersely replies to him. Her mind a chasm of darkness filled with a quiet armistice. Finally, after a moment of regaining her composure she rests her pale eyes on his physique. He isn’t impressive, at least to her. But he is… cheery. This was peculiar to her. What is he so pleased about?
You seem, she pauses unsure of what word would be appropriate to use for him. Thrilled. Stanch in her choice, she finds herself satisfied with her vocabulary that is gradually beginning to mature. Standing here at an impasse, she begins to wonder why it was that she had not occupied the moment to dissipate into oblivion. Before he had come to interject her and her ethereal thoughts. What would mother say to this? The voice taunts her, yet she knows that it is right. What WOULD mother say? This was a boy, a stranger, a plausible danger. Would mother desire her to keep company with someone she had not approved of? For the first time since she had turned to him, she shifts uncomfortably. What did she think she was doing?
It was interrupting her again. This little piece of light manifested horse. It was cold, and oddly annoying to Oricle. Turning slowly, each step filled with a purpose. Every breath obstructing her hearing. It’s not until she is facing the colt does she attempt any sort of civility. Even this is simply a thin line on her lips acknowledging his existence. Oricle, delicate with measured thought she tersely replies to him. Her mind a chasm of darkness filled with a quiet armistice. Finally, after a moment of regaining her composure she rests her pale eyes on his physique. He isn’t impressive, at least to her. But he is… cheery. This was peculiar to her. What is he so pleased about?
You seem, she pauses unsure of what word would be appropriate to use for him. Thrilled. Stanch in her choice, she finds herself satisfied with her vocabulary that is gradually beginning to mature. Standing here at an impasse, she begins to wonder why it was that she had not occupied the moment to dissipate into oblivion. Before he had come to interject her and her ethereal thoughts. What would mother say to this? The voice taunts her, yet she knows that it is right. What WOULD mother say? This was a boy, a stranger, a plausible danger. Would mother desire her to keep company with someone she had not approved of? For the first time since she had turned to him, she shifts uncomfortably. What did she think she was doing?
Oricle
so will you hold cause time is cold
but in your soul im standing by
but in your soul im standing by
