09-04-2016, 09:48 AM
With my speechless calm eyes,
nothing is coming to rise.
Beqanna had changed. And her changes had changed all of them, if they wanted it or not. Even Brynmor had changed, not his devotion to his home– although the Tundra was no longer there – or his love for Roan or the friendship he had built with Offspring. He also hadn’t had traits that could be taken from him, he had been born without and during her prior punishment Beqanna had already taken his kingdom granted wings. Before that he had given up his invisibility in favour of wings. With that all he could live, they could take those things away from him, as long as they didn’t touch his loved ones. Roan, Igni, Offspring, his brothers and sisters.
However, the former Tundra lord had never expected that he had grown so dependent on the sight that had been given to him. Djinni had been a miracle to him, restoring the sight that he had previously temporary given during Missy’s horrifying games. Upon that Brynmor had learned that his long friend had been nothing more than something he had created in his mind. But now, now his ability to see was taken from him, like the magic that had given it to him no longer existed. His first steps in the darkness had been the hardest, but he still couldn’t navigate around like he had managed to do before. He had been bumping into things and tripping over roots and rocks that he couldn’t see more than he had ever done before. His sight had really been a god given gift, a miracle.
Just like the others he had learned to earn points, whatever that precisely was. This race could give him some. It would be hard – which blind pony would even think of racing, competing with other horses – but at least it would make it possible for Brynmor to try. Try to contribute. He could use the given points to Offspring, to support his former king and dear friend’s cause. So he lines up with them, not exactly in the middle, to avoid the busiest area, but not on the side either. The graying stallion would need the closeness of others to determine where to go.
They start and he dashes off with them. His legs aren’t that long, but the lack of size makes him lighter than some of his fellow competitors. He’s hesitant though. Not only because he doesn’t really know if he’s going in the right way, but also because he’s afraid to trip or step into a hole and fall down. It must be a strange sight, seeing a pony race while not being able to go straight, sticking close to others and tripping over each obstacle he met.
By the time he reaches the finish his knees are bruised and scratched, even more than before, and he is sweating heavily due to his thick Tundra coat. Sides heaving, while he stands still to catch his breath. Even if he could see, he wouldn’t have to look around to know he probably hadn’t done a good job. After all, which blind pony would even try to race?
BRYNMOR
So much nonsense written here, but it was fun to do xD.