"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
There's no denying it now, I've denied it for the past several turns and rollbacks, and now I know I am definitely lost. The darker patches of forests were starting to give way, their boughs bending and bowing, concealing the sun. The walk through the spires of woodland was a cold one, the winter chill is still evident and it is harsh against my strawberry pelt. But the barricade of bark and leaf kept me on the straight and narrow, so to speak. I'd been walking the winding tracks in the woodland for hours, for days even; evidence in my matted red mane, complete with additions of burrs and thistles and a few crispy leaves. I have literally dragged myself through hedges, and dying brush and now finally break through the darkness int the spring sunlight.
Have I died? Perhaps the winter chill had been too much for a weary traveller, and I had faded in one of my brief slumbers. The scenery is vivid, viridian green, luscious and enticing. Slate rocks decorate and frame the prized monument. A waterfall. The gushing water is music, a lullaby, a gentle serenade and a smile etches my lips. I remember my childhood, not too long ago really, and I recall the gentle lapping waters of my previous homeland. My strawberry ears turn and perk forward, listening to all the sound the spring orchestrates. but then there is another sound, a piercing cry, a sharp whinny that echoes throughout, and it catches me off guard. I stumble forward, tripping over my heavy feathered feet. I am such a clumsy beast of a mare sometimes. I gather myself and wander onwards, spotting then out of my soft eyes, the source of the call.
Ah. I'm definitely lost and now, now I'm trespassing. my weary mind pings with thoughts but my feet still trudge on, lips cracked and dry, throat parched and calling out for sweet, sweet water. My mussy mane falls in thick knots over my neck as it sways with every, weary movement. Fatigue is gnawing at my bones, my muscles. And I finally, finally reach somewhere pleasant, somewhere so beautiful it's like a daydream, and yet it's occupied. I whicker gently, head turning this way and that, fluffy ears turning to try and catch any sound of threat. The silver lady before me, she is as shimmery and beautiful as the waters that ripple just by her. I have to catch my eye then, as it wanders with desire to the lapping pool. I ignore it and trudge on, closer, careful. As I near the mare, I trip once more and stumble to my awkward knees.
'Ah. Forgive me, I've stumbled somewhere unfamiliar.' I steady myself and get back to all four feet. Eyes swallowing the beautiful world, like a dreamland, plucked right out of a serene and blissful dream. 'It would seem I am... quite lost.' my words fumble like cascading rocks, and me with clumsy hands trying to catch them. Tired eyes meet the dappled's face and my lips curve into a soft smile. 'I'm Eld. I.. I don't suppose there's the off chance I can rest for a while?' or forever. the thought occurs to me then, the beauty here, plucked right out of a dreamworld, it calls to the beating of my heart and soothes my insides. in honesty, I don't think I could bear leaving it now I've found it. A beautiful paradise. They do say that those lost often find the most wondrous of things...
-☆-
and i'd apologise for bleeding on your shirt; wanderer
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