"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
She always had a pretty face, I wondered why she hung around this place
We can drive home
with one headlight
I felt warmth at my side as the cool air filled my lungs for the first time. I smelled someone wonderful even though I couldn’t see her in the darkness. Rich milk flowed down my throat as I experienced my first meal, drawing strength into my bones so I could attempt to stand without falling. Then I laid down again, exhausted by all these new firsts. When I awoke, I was alone. Hazel eyes open as bright light filters through my eyelids, confusion filtering into my mind. Where was I? I look down and see my small dark hooves, the little zebra stripes that wrap around my thin legs. I crane my neck and look over my slate body, unable to tear my gaze away from the unusual dorsal stripe that runs across my back. Swirls of purple, pink, and blues run through the black and it is glittered with spots of starlight. I like looking at this interesting part of myself, I like the way the colors bleed into each other.
A strange sound brings me back to the present, realizing just how alone I am. Where was my mother? I had one a minute ago… Didn’t I? I attempt to stand again but without someone to encourage me it seems like a waste of time. My little limbs fold beneath myself again and I manage to force a scared squeal out of my mouth. Surely someone would come for me. Surely my mother had just wandered off and was coming back soon. I didn’t realize that I was smaller than an average foal. I had the dished face of an Arabian and my body would be thinner as well but my body would never grow the way it should. Half Falabella and half Anglo Arabian. What an odd combination. While others would grow tall, I would always remain on the shorter side of things. Looking up at people, wondering what it was like to have your head hit the clouds. I’m unaware of my strangeness, of the fact that I was kind of a freak. I have no idea if maybe this is why I was left here. All I know is that I’m hungry and scared and already sick of being alone in this strange place.
09-04-2015, 02:49 AM (This post was last modified: 09-04-2015, 03:09 AM by Fiasko.)
fiasko
Early in the morning, she finds herself leaving the Gates. Her feet take her, one after another, over the border and into the lands beyond.
She feels restless, uneasy, though she can’t quite put her hoof on what’s making her feel that way. But her feet continue to carry her forward.
Eventually she finds herself in a place that she’s never been before - the adoption den. It’s not too much of a surprise as it’s close by to the Gates, but she can’t help but wonder why her restless feet would have brought her here.
The den is not a place she had ever ventured as a child, even though she herself had been abandoned by her mother. Sand had not been kind enough to leave her here. She’d been forced to fend for herself until Kaelie had found her.
And then Fiasko spots her. A tiny little grullo foal, lying by itself in the dirt.
Fiasko’s heart immediately leaps into her throat and she steps cautiously towards the child, trying not to make any sudden movements - she doesn’t want to scare them. As she grows closer, more details become apparent - the child is a girl, and running down her back is the most bizarre dorsal stripe Fiasko has ever seen. The stripe is a crazy riot of colour - pinks, purples and blues. Beautiful.
When she is close enough, she clears her throat awkwardly and raises her voice. “Hello there, are you alright?” She can’t help but feel for the child. She knows all too well what it is to be abandoned, to have no home of her own. Maybe … maybe she could do for this girl what Kaelie once did for her. “I’m Fiasko. What’s your name?” She just hopes that her mutilated face does not scare the girl.
She always had a pretty face, I wondered why she hung around this place
We can drive home
with one headlight
The fairies are starting to become concerned about my presence. I’ve been here too long and I need to eat soon. My stomach rumbles loudly to remind me. I blankly look to the tiny winged creatures that hover anxiously around me. I know they are trying to help but they can only do so much. I can barely hear their whispers but the sound is strained. The minutes turn to hours. I’m slowly coming to accept that maybe I don’t have a mother. Maybe I’ll be here alone forever. My newborn mind can’t comprehend death but I do realize that I’m in trouble. I also realize how much I’m craving the warmth of another and the sweet taste of milk.
A soft whimper escapes from my lips. The noise is somewhat comforting so I start whickering sadly to myself to pass the time. For a moment this is distracting enough that I don’t hear her coming. Then I turn and she’s standing there with an odd look on her face. Maybe it’s odd because she’s missing an eye so the look of worry that radiates from her eyes is intensified. I don’t think she’s scary, that’s another concept I can’t grasp yet. Maybe having a mangled face and missing eyes are normal. I really wouldn’t know. All I know is that I’m no longer alone. And she smells nice. My hazel eyes look up at her with relief. Although her questions confuse me. ”I don’t know.” I really don’t know if I’m alright but my rumbling belly is pointing to no. As for my name… ”My name?” I shake my head, obviously befuddled. I don’t think I have one. ”Are you my mom?” I ask Fiasko hopefully, maybe then I’ll know my name.
Much to her relief, the girl does not seem scared by her appearance. A symptom of her youth and isolation no doubt - she likely hasn’t seen many other faces. She probably doesn’t know enough to recognize Fiasko’s face as something out of the ordinary, a monstrosity.
The relief on the girl’s face though … it near enough breaks her heart. She can’t help herself any longer, she steps forward and drops her nose to the girl’s neck, tentatively nuzzling her. She wonders how long it’s been since the girl last had anyone touch her.
Her heart sinks even deeper though when the girl reveals that she doesn’t even have a name. “Oh sweetheart …” What kind of mother would abandon such a beautiful little girl without even naming her? Unfortunately she does know the answer to that, but that isn’t relevant now. What’s relevant is that the girl is on her own, and needs help.
“I … I’m not your mom. But if you like, I could become your mom.” She feels so nervous uttering those words, but it feels right. Once upon a time she was rescued by a kind and caring mare who took her in, and treated her as her own. It’s only right that Fiasko do the same - pass it on, in a way. “Would you like to come home with me? I live in a kingdom called the Gates. It’s very beautiful there.” She can hear the girl’s belly rumbling - they’ll need to find her some milk soon. Fiasko has no idea where though. Her twins are two years old now, she stopped producing long ago. She vaguely recalls seeing Wichita with swollen sides during the winter - perhaps she has given birth and will have milk to share.
But they will have to leave soon. She doubts the girl has eaten recently and is likely weakening. They must find her food before she grows too weak to travel.
First though, to correct a mother’s mistake. Only if the girl wants her to of course. “Would you like me to give you a name?”
She always had a pretty face, I wondered why she hung around this place
We can drive home
with one headlight
I like this lady. I like the way she nuzzles my neck. I can’t help but giggle slightly despite what’s happened as I lean into her soft muzzle. She’s warm and smells of flowers. I really hope she’s my mom. I can’t remember being touched before although it must have happened, someone had cleaned her off and let her suckle in the dark. Unfortunately it wasn’t this mare who says she’s not my mom but could be. This doesn’t make sense to me and I look up at her with a tilt of my head. As far as I’m concerned, that basically means your Mom. ”Of course I want to go Mom, please don’t leave me behind again.”
Struggling to stand up, I finally succeed. Now Mom will see that I’m smaller than the average foal, that I’m not going to grow up to be very tall. Bottlebrush tail whirls excitedly as I stumble into her side, bumping my head underneath her and searching for something to eat. I’m very disappointed when there’s no milk to be had and even more confused than before. Mom might think I’m a runt, others might think I wasn’t meant to live. But I am. I’m a star child, just a miniature one. But I'll never grow at all if I don't get to eat.
My pretty painted one eyed Mom asks if I want a name. My hunger is briefly forgotten as I lean into her forelegs and look up at her with a smile. ”What’s my name!?” Of course I want a name, how can I go through life without one? Then I’ll be susceptible to cruel jokes and laughter as they tease the short girl with no name. No, please Mom. Tell me my name!
Fiasko can already feel herself falling in love with the little girl. She's so different than her own children, so affectionate, so sweet. Sahm had been a shy quiet thing at that age, and Sidra … well, that girl has a wild streak a mile wide.
But this little dear thing is neither of those things. She’s kind, sweet, and full of innocent happiness and naivety. Such a lovely little girl.
Fiasko’s heart melts when the child instantly calls her Mom, but the child’s insistance that she not be left behind ‘again’ makes her realize what’s going on. The girl doesn’t even realize that Fiasko’s not her real mother. She doesn’t even remember what her birth mother looked, sounded or smelled like.
Perhaps that’s for the best though. Fiasko remembers her own birth mother … and those memories aren’t pleasant. This little girl doesn’t need to know that her birth mother abandoned her. She doesn’t ever need to know that she wasn’t wanted by someone. “Of course darling, I’ll never leave you behind. I promise.”
The girl begins searching for milk, and Fiasko winces. They definitely need to find food, and soon. They should start heading to the Gates. “I’m sorry sweetie, I’m not producing right now. But, I have a friend back home who might be able to help. We should get going!”
The Gates are momentarily forgotten however when the girl starts bursting with enthusiasm at the thought of a name. Fiasko is momentarily struck dumb. She’d had lots of time to come up with the names for the twins (while she hadn’t been expecting twins, she’d thankfully come up with both a girl and a boy name. But coming up with a name right on the spot is a little more difficult.
She thinks hard for a moment, brow furrowed. Finally one comes to her … she just hopes the girl likes it. “What about Caitlyn? Would you like the name Caitlyn?”
She always had a pretty face, I wondered why she hung around this place
We can drive home
with one headlight
Momma reassures me that she won’t leave me behind again and I nuzzle her back happily. It’s good enough for me. Not that I minded hanging with the fairies but goodness, that had been an awfully long time. The fairies are shaking their heads at me with a look of exasperation but I don’t mind. I’m reunited with my mother, how could I mind anything? I’m absolutely starving at this point and I can’t help but keep butting against her side in frustration, hoping something’s going to come out. Mom says she’s not producing milk and this confuses me as one thing I’m certain of is that Mom = Milk. However it doesn’t put me off for long as she says she will take me to get some food. Even better she follows this up with my name.
Caitlyn. I like it. I like it a lot. It just seems to fit. With a soft giggle, I clumsily prance at her side. ”I’m Caitlyn!” Trying it out, seeing how it comes off the tongue. Yep, I certainly am Caitlyn. ”Mom I’m so hungry.” The enthusiasm for my new name quickly wears off because my stomach is eating itself from the inside. ”I’m ready to go home.” Go home and eat!!!
The girl seems ecstatic at her new name, and Fiasko can’t help but smile. Such a wonderful, innocent little girl. She suddenly thinks of the girl’s mother, and wonders if it’s perhaps better this way, that Caitlyn knows so little about her. Fiasko remembers her mother all too well. She remembers Depravity’s hooves crushing down on her skull. Maybe Caitlyn’s mother had done her a favour.
But still, it feels wrong to lie. Perhaps she will just lie for now. Keep the truth hidden until the girl is old enough to understand it. Yes, that seems better. She’s only hiding it from her until she’s emotionally mature enough to handle it.
The girl complains about her hunger, and Fiasko instantly feels guilty. If only she were able to produce milk herself. But instead she will have to impose upon poor Wichita. “Of course darling. Come, follow me.” She takes a few steps away, glancing back to make sure the girl is moving. And when she’s certain that Caitlyn is following, she heads off in the direction of the Gates.
