You sprinkle star dust on my pillow case; Texas

[Sparrow]

And I see colors in a different way
You make what doesn't matter fade to grey
Life is good and that's the way it should be

She does not know how she ended up alone.
The little girl remembers warmth accompanied by a breathy, rumbling sound in her ear. She recalls sweet liquid dribbling down her chin, the taste of which she can still find on her lips, and dark eyes looking into hers with an expression she could not fathom. The silver black filly wrinkles her nose. That is all she can call to mind and she knows it is not enough. Surely the world did not provide her with the warm, soft creature only to take her away and leave the girl stranded? Where would food come from now? And protection? Confusion brings the little girl to tears and she whimpers pitifully as she stands. The grass has left an indent where she was napping. Beside it are the trampled plants that shows she wasn't always by herself, that perhaps someone did care.

She falters for awhile, grasped by indecision. Would the milk-creature come back here to find her? Or was she meant to go after it? The dark filly sniffs half-heartedly at the ground but it was a jumble of scents that told her nothing. Finally a decision is made for her when a passing rabbit startles the girl into a panicked gallop. Her long legs are clumsy, unsteady, but they eat at the ground as quickly as she can make them. When she finally stops with her head held high, feigning ignorance of her fear, she can hear the sound of roaring water. The girl perks her ears and nickers, curious.

The bubbling liquid noise makes her tummy ache. She staggers forward, tired from her flight of terror from the fearsome bunny. Although disappointed to find that the river isn't the whitish colored liquid the milk-creature had given her, she takes a half hearted drink and sneezes as the cold trickles down her throat. Tears gather in her eyes once more, and she collapses on the bank with a defeated whuff.

sparrow

texas x redbird

ooc: I just realized. Sparrow has no way of knowing her name. :p Her mother was mute. Sooooo, feel free to have Texas "name" her at some point if it ends up working out like that!

[Texas]

and I discovered that my castles stand

upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

If Texas were the type to have nightmares, this one would be at the top of the list of ‘most terrible dreams ever’.

The horse beside the waterfall is 1) crying, 2) a crying child, and 3) a crying female child. He’s quite certain that he has never done anything to deserve this particular situation, and in fact has been watching her for several minutes from the shelter of the forest, hoping that someone else will find her first and spare him from the hassle of dealing with it. But no one comes, and Texas would rather not have to fend off corpse-picking crows every time he goes for a drink of water, so he steps forward.

As he draws nearer, he can see that she’s not actively crying, which is a huge relief. All he has to do is make sure she doesn’t start crying, and either push her into the water so she drifts downriver, or find someone else to take care of her. The first option is infinitely easier, but there’s also the possibility that they’re being watched and Texas would rather not deal with any possible consequences for his action.

“Hey,” he says, reaching forward to tap the filly on the side with a slightly-bent fetlock. “Hey. What are you doing? Where’s your Mom?” His heavy drawl makes the words sound kind – an unfortunate side-effect – but he’s also not frowning or actively trying to push her into the water, so perhaps he appears more well-meaning than he had intended.

texas

[Sparrow]

And I see colors in a different way
You make what doesn't matter fade to grey
Life is good and that's the way it should be

She is sure she has been lying alone for days. A sad little sob escapes her lips but she is incapable of moving from the riverbank. The future looms uncertain. She knows her mama must be around somewhere. The black fillly wishes she would return and make everything all right again. She wonders if perhaps bunnies are something she could eat. Do they make milk?

A touch on her side is what pulls her from her mournful contemplation. With large, liquid brown eyes the girl looks up and up and up at the brown figure. Confusion and fear dance across her features, before they melt into mere puzzlement. She glances from her hooves and his hooves, to her tail and then his tail, to what she can see of her nose to his nose. With a delighted whuff, she realizes they match. The silver maned filly scrambles to her feet, all legs and toppling balance, and launches herself into the stallion's chest. A thrilled whinny explodes from her chest. Her ears flick upright and she dances in place.

“Mama.” The little girl says, her voice encompassing relief and joy and reproach in one. It is not a question. Though the smell of this creature is unfamiliar, she decides that this is mama. With mama there is safety and warmth. “I'm resting. You left. I waited for you, mama!”

Tears threaten to gather in her eyes once more as she adds, “I'm hungry, mama.”

The girl isn't worried. She knows that her mother won't let her down. She came back, after all.

sparrow

texas x redbird

[Texas]

and I discovered that my castles stand

upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

The filly does not immediately start crying when she sees him, which is an immense relief. She does do some rather strnage back and forth of looking at parts of him and parts of herself, and he’s just put the pieces together when she scrambles to her feet. He tries to back away, but the filly is quick.

“Umm.” He manages, looking down at the wide-eyed child.

He’d always assumed that even the dullest of children were capable of recognizing their mother, but it seems that he was either incorrect, or that this child is exceptionally mentally delayed. Texas is never wrong though, which means that the black filly is exceptionally dumb. Of course he’d find a stupid one, he thinks as the child accuses him of having left her. He briefly debates telling her that he is not her mother, but the tears in her eyes as she voices her hunger deter him from that, at least for now.

“Eat some grass?” he suggests, gesturing to the ground with a front hoof.

Wait – children don’t eat grass.

Perhaps they eat clover.

There are a few familiar pink flowers a few yards away, and Texas walks toward them, whickering gently for the filly to follow. “Eat this.” He says, reaching down to bite off a mouthful for himself in case she doesn’t know how to eat.

texas

[Sparrow]

And I see colors in a different way
You make what doesn't matter fade to grey
Life is good and that's the way it should be

Her mother looks bewildered, but it doesn't worry her. She knows that he will take care of her and she waits with patient confidence as he thinks. Her dark eyes follow the length of his leg to the ground where the greens stuff she has been lying in sways in the wind. This stuff is food? She looks back up her mother incredulously, in a 'you first' manner.

Luckily she doesn't have to try the suspicious plants. Her mother walks a few yards away and points out a pretty, many petaled flower. It looks less suspect than the first offering and the little girl takes a couple tentative steps forward. The food, whatever it is, didn't make her mother gag. And surely the bay horse wouldn't try to poison her.

With brave determination, she lunges forward and takes a bite, wrinkling her nose at the taste. After a minute her mouth gets the hang of the bitter-sweet juice of the pink flowers and she grasps eagerly at the ground. She eats until her tummy is full, and sighs happily.

“Thank you mama,” she pipes up, her voice sincere and shy. “Where are we? Is this our home?”

Impulsively, with childish affection, the girl snuggles into her mother's chest. A satisfied nicker escapes from her lips. Her hunger is sated, her mother is back and the world is right.

sparrow

texas x redbird

[Texas]

and I discovered that my castles stand

upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

He half expects her to wither and die as he watches – how often do children need to eat? Is it more frequently than adults? – but she steps toward the clover he’s gestured at with a look of determination that is uncannily similar to Texas’ own. She’s probably his, he thinks as she begins to eat; her mother had probably left her here thinking that he’d take care of her.

A horrible assumption, of course, but now that she’s here he can’t very well track down her mother and force her to take her back.

Well, he could, but that would require effort that he’s not inclined to exert.

Texas hadn’t corrected her when she’d called him Mama the first time, and it appears that the name seems to have stuck. “My name is Texas,” he tells her, “not Mama.” It’s probably a futile effort, so there’s not much force behind his words, and he swallows them up as she snuggles into his chest. This is not the first time he’s had a child press themselves against him, but it’s the first time in decades. With the waterfall behind them, he’s reminded suddenly – and painfully – of his passel of tow-headed children splashing in the water as he and Believer looked on.

The world had been a safer place for children then; the only danger was the wolves that lurked beyond the borders. These days there is danger everywhere, hiding behind smiling faces and gathering in force in kingdoms preparing for war. He could leave, he knows, let Beqanna settle itself the way it always has without him. But he looks down at the white-haired filly pressed against his chest and realizes that if he leaves she’ll be left entirely alone. He doesn’t love her – how can he when he’s only just met her? – but the thought of pushing her gently into the river and watching her drift away is suddenly far less appealing.

This is why it’s best to not think of the past, he tells him and he bends down and roughly tousles the filly’s mane. “Yes, this is home. This is the Dazzling Waterfall.”

texas