01-16-2017, 10:25 AM
The forest is never quiet, not truly. There is always a wind blowing the leaves against their branches, they shudder and sway by its command. Birds sing songs, twiiter to the rise of the sun and sweetly call to one another throughout the afternoon. Footsteps, there are always footsteps because the common areas are not as deserted as they once were, many have taken refuge within their borders in lieu of joining a kingdom. Some days that is just fine, Potion hardly takes note of the strangers that might pass the small section she and Ecco have called home. Other days it is for lack of better word, annoying, she doesn’t like to be disturbed.
This is such a day.
Someone’s been crying, screaming out into the silence of the wood for better part of the day. Normally Potion would have ignored the woman but she just continued to carry on, over and over again. It doesn’t take much to find her, the small dappled mare, she is making such a racket. Potion can now see what all the fuss is about because the woman is straining in such a familiar way but Potion makes no move to help her. It wasn’t her problem, not yet.
It’s only when she is finished that the real interest pulls at her, three tiny foals sprawled among the grass. There Dam has barely the energy to clean them but she does her best, and then she promptly names them at the request of the smallest one. Callbear, Vengeling and Sidlet. The names do not strike her as odd, she had heard much worse and some of them belonged to her own siblings. The first one seems feisty, barking at the others and it becomes apparent which one calls the shots. I want to be big, it demands and Potion could not have been in a better place, at a better time.
With the little appaloosa mare clean passed out she made her move, emerging from the cover of the thicket. “And big you shall be my little troublemakers,” she announced because something told her she would not regret giving them a little push in the age department. With little fanfare she began, an invisible mist seeping its way from her body to coil around the three foals. You can imagine the fairy godmother-esque magic that it may appear to be to such very small children. They would stretch, expand and grow before coming to rest at about 2 yrs old. Old enough to take care of themselves, she had an itch that their Mother would not be so helpful in the nurture department.
“There now, you are big, what do we say to that?”
This is such a day.
Someone’s been crying, screaming out into the silence of the wood for better part of the day. Normally Potion would have ignored the woman but she just continued to carry on, over and over again. It doesn’t take much to find her, the small dappled mare, she is making such a racket. Potion can now see what all the fuss is about because the woman is straining in such a familiar way but Potion makes no move to help her. It wasn’t her problem, not yet.
It’s only when she is finished that the real interest pulls at her, three tiny foals sprawled among the grass. There Dam has barely the energy to clean them but she does her best, and then she promptly names them at the request of the smallest one. Callbear, Vengeling and Sidlet. The names do not strike her as odd, she had heard much worse and some of them belonged to her own siblings. The first one seems feisty, barking at the others and it becomes apparent which one calls the shots. I want to be big, it demands and Potion could not have been in a better place, at a better time.
With the little appaloosa mare clean passed out she made her move, emerging from the cover of the thicket. “And big you shall be my little troublemakers,” she announced because something told her she would not regret giving them a little push in the age department. With little fanfare she began, an invisible mist seeping its way from her body to coil around the three foals. You can imagine the fairy godmother-esque magic that it may appear to be to such very small children. They would stretch, expand and grow before coming to rest at about 2 yrs old. Old enough to take care of themselves, she had an itch that their Mother would not be so helpful in the nurture department.
“There now, you are big, what do we say to that?”
POTION
[..we ain't never gettin' older..]