07-14-2019, 10:34 AM
Ilma
One night I will be the moon
hanging over you
One night I will be a star
follow where you are
hanging over you
One night I will be a star
follow where you are
The clearing seems tailor-made; as, perhaps, are all the places that the white mare frequents. It’s not because she is terribly nitpicky - it’s the new habit of checking a bunch of possible futures before setting hoof anywhere. As such, she felt attracted to the possibility of going left, today, and then right - perhaps she had avoided contact with a certain predator, with a certain someone. Now, peace and quiet surround her in the sunset. The world is slowly quieting when evening falls, birds have found their nests and defended their territories; most animals return for the night.
Some night-crawlers are not yet out; and so the mare has found a place to wait. For what, she doesn’t really know. Whoever may or may not pass by this spot could still decide to take a different route, or not to investigate a mare looking like an illusion.
Sometimes she wonders if she did anything right. But the past is a stranger to the mare now, her focus always on the future. During the war, the possible futures had all looked terrible - friends and family hurting, either Loess or Tephra burning like a hell, more lands possibly joining in and innocent children being hurt - she had tried not to do anything to trigger her visions, but nevertheless they had come in the night. Still she stayed in the caverns she had chosen, waiting for the storms to pass.
That wasn’t to say Hyaline was the same, for her. Or even if any land of the East was still a true home. But her friends no longer ruled, and neither did she. She was a piece of that past in which she did not quite belong.
She strolled out to the Field some days, guiding those who asked with the knowledge of the lands that she had. But between those days and the next, she wandered.
After all, the diplomat no longer had a true home, herself.
Some night-crawlers are not yet out; and so the mare has found a place to wait. For what, she doesn’t really know. Whoever may or may not pass by this spot could still decide to take a different route, or not to investigate a mare looking like an illusion.
Sometimes she wonders if she did anything right. But the past is a stranger to the mare now, her focus always on the future. During the war, the possible futures had all looked terrible - friends and family hurting, either Loess or Tephra burning like a hell, more lands possibly joining in and innocent children being hurt - she had tried not to do anything to trigger her visions, but nevertheless they had come in the night. Still she stayed in the caverns she had chosen, waiting for the storms to pass.
That wasn’t to say Hyaline was the same, for her. Or even if any land of the East was still a true home. But her friends no longer ruled, and neither did she. She was a piece of that past in which she did not quite belong.
She strolled out to the Field some days, guiding those who asked with the knowledge of the lands that she had. But between those days and the next, she wandered.
After all, the diplomat no longer had a true home, herself.
Hurry, the sun is waking
Darling, don't leave me waiting
Darling, don't leave me waiting
Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this: men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.
Robert Jordan, Wheel of Time