12-23-2018, 05:19 AM
She had paused, unaware of how close to the edges of the Den she had come. Or perhaps aware but not willing to acknowledge it. She had been to the Playground, or rather come close to going. But she hadn’t been able to go down with all those other kids to hear about their lives with their families. She hadn’t wanted too, and had balked against the fairies urging to getting her to go. So she hadn’t. They had stopped urging her to play with others when there had been tiny bleats of distress coming from her lips at their urging.
But now she was alone, the way she preferred it honestly. She could learn all she needed to later, for now, she would much rather be-.
The soft whickering disturbed her very serious talk with herself. Just when she had been sure this was what she wanted, she felt her heart start to thump in nervousness in her chest. It was loud, surely even the mare could hear it, it was so loud. She stills, her ears flickering with uncertainty before she turns to look.
She was there, she was real and she was talking to her. She blinks, the stick dropping from her lips. The mare’s lips stretching forwards and she hesitantly stretches her own out. She inhales the scent of...well she’s not sure what because she hasn’t left the Den. But there’s what she imagines is happiness, and a smell that is particularly the mare’s own. She steps a hesitant step forwards, nostrils still flaring. She doesn’t speak, hasn’t. Hasn’t felt the urge to since that first day, but she is closer, she is curious.
And above all she feels the hope spring to life beneath her ribcage.
@[Kensa]
But now she was alone, the way she preferred it honestly. She could learn all she needed to later, for now, she would much rather be-.
The soft whickering disturbed her very serious talk with herself. Just when she had been sure this was what she wanted, she felt her heart start to thump in nervousness in her chest. It was loud, surely even the mare could hear it, it was so loud. She stills, her ears flickering with uncertainty before she turns to look.
She was there, she was real and she was talking to her. She blinks, the stick dropping from her lips. The mare’s lips stretching forwards and she hesitantly stretches her own out. She inhales the scent of...well she’s not sure what because she hasn’t left the Den. But there’s what she imagines is happiness, and a smell that is particularly the mare’s own. She steps a hesitant step forwards, nostrils still flaring. She doesn’t speak, hasn’t. Hasn’t felt the urge to since that first day, but she is closer, she is curious.
And above all she feels the hope spring to life beneath her ribcage.
@[Kensa]