03-26-2019, 02:20 PM
isilme
steady as the stars in the woods
All she sees are bright lights, for a moment.
Then, blinking, a figure. The figure licks her, an oddly comforting feeling, before nudging her. “Isilme,” she repeats. What a strange noise. She busies herself trying to stand—a feeble attempt as her long, spindly legs give out underneath her. She falls a second time before staying on the ground. Too much work.
She hears another noise from the figure—“Austra” she repeats this time—and realizes another, smaller figure has appeared. They are both cream colored, though the smaller is paler than the taller. She looks down at herself to see that she appears to match the taller. Interesting.
Several more figures appear around them—an odd brown and green horned figure, a white winged one, and a small one that seems to match her.
“Dawn!” She repeats, not yet making the connection between Dawn and momma. The new small one, seemingly named Terhi, is nudged forward by the white.
Isilme—which she takes too long to realize is her own name—starts to stand again, wobbly, but upright. She leaps toward Terhi playfully, her tiny, undeveloped dragon wings flapping awkwardly before Isilme falls again. She huffs, annoyed. The palomino girl once again stays on the ground in protest.
A final figure appears—one that matches Little Austra, even down to the muzzle. He plants a kiss on her forehead, then Isilme’s. She twists her muzzle in mild irritation: he should’ve asked before touching her. She would have said no.
Then, blinking, a figure. The figure licks her, an oddly comforting feeling, before nudging her. “Isilme,” she repeats. What a strange noise. She busies herself trying to stand—a feeble attempt as her long, spindly legs give out underneath her. She falls a second time before staying on the ground. Too much work.
She hears another noise from the figure—“Austra” she repeats this time—and realizes another, smaller figure has appeared. They are both cream colored, though the smaller is paler than the taller. She looks down at herself to see that she appears to match the taller. Interesting.
Several more figures appear around them—an odd brown and green horned figure, a white winged one, and a small one that seems to match her.
“Dawn!” She repeats, not yet making the connection between Dawn and momma. The new small one, seemingly named Terhi, is nudged forward by the white.
Isilme—which she takes too long to realize is her own name—starts to stand again, wobbly, but upright. She leaps toward Terhi playfully, her tiny, undeveloped dragon wings flapping awkwardly before Isilme falls again. She huffs, annoyed. The palomino girl once again stays on the ground in protest.
A final figure appears—one that matches Little Austra, even down to the muzzle. He plants a kiss on her forehead, then Isilme’s. She twists her muzzle in mild irritation: he should’ve asked before touching her. She would have said no.
careless and young, free as the birds that fly