07-25-2015, 11:13 PM
“Smells of cat.” She glanced at Weir quizzically, her curiosity raging. Through her young eyes she viewed Weir as too old, too adult to be much of an adventurer, not like her. All the grown mares and stallions of her herd bored her half to death, doing more to dull her curiosity than encourage it. For a stallion, Weir was different, he knew the flutter creature was a butterflies, and that the butterflies smells of cat. Somehow he possessed a great deal of knowledge, much more than her, and she had been exploring the grasses and rocks close to her herd her whole life! She breathed Rhy in, her nostrils flaring as she pressed her tiny muzzle ever so gently against the butterflies skin. Whatever smells of cat was, Illae decided it must also mean wonderful, for the butterflies scent was nothing normal and everything exotic. She breathed in again, deeper this time, pulling away only when she felt the reverberation of Rhy’s voice within her chest. “No. I am many things, but I am nothing so wonderful as a butterfly.” A sly, knowing smile crept onto Illae’s delicate features. Whilst she may have captured the butterflies, that did not mean it would reveal its secrets, magic can be mystery. Perhaps the butterflies did not want to reveal too much in front of Weir. Rhy asked her of her home. Home. It was behind her, at the flank of her mother and within the monotonous confines of the herd. But what was the importance of her home to a magical butterflies? Did Rhy want to meet her herd? Illae hoped not, the idea of sharing her discovery with them made her pout internally. They wouldn’t appreciate it, and what was more, her mother would know for certain she had wandered off. No, Rhy the butterflies was her secret. Hers to keep and hers to tell. And giving Weir a sneaky sideways glance, Illae reluctantly supposed Weir’s as well. Though she would have to make Weir understand, it had been her who had found the butterflies first! “My home is that way.” She stated matter-of-factly, and Illae swivelled the whole of her body around with foal-like exuberance and pointed the way she had come, around the underbrush and the trunk of tree with the low hanging branches. Except, to her left there was another tree which looked similarly the same, its branches low and its trunk encircled with its own cloak of underbrush. “Hmm…” she pondered aloud, her certainty beginning to waver. Perhaps that had been the tree she had come around. “No I think I came from that way…” she corrected herself though there was a hint of anxiety which had crept its way into her words, and all of a sudden the forest she had given little thought in exploring loomed very large. |