Novel
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
She is a child, and children play. But then, perhaps their definitions of play are two very different things. As much of her life has been spent as a bird, she has played, mostly, with the raven youth. Their games are very different from those of the equine persuasion.
Stepping back, she eyes him with one black orb as though he has gone entirely mad. ”Play?” she echoes, the question evident in her voice. ”Well, of course I play.” Pause. ”Don't you?”
She knows nothing of his wariness for those horses with traits, nor of his father. Perhaps she has seen him from the sky, but certainly she has never met him. She has met so few since her mother had left her, barely a weanling, with nary a glance backwards. And until now, she had not known just what she had been missing.
Of course, if the rest are as wary as he, this could easily be exhausting work.
But for now she is content, happy to see and learn and do. And this young colt seems to be working just as well for this venture as any other might.
”Do you want to play? she asks, tilting her head curiously. Without waiting for a response, her red roan coat flashes to black before she is shrinking, feathers bursting through her skin as she morphs swiftly into the familiar form of the raven.
Glancing up at him with beady black eyes, she offers a loud caw before stretching her wings wide and bursting into the air. With an ease born if practice, she flies to the colt before dropping to land upon his withers.
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before.