Time did not pause to consider my feelings. Tomorrow came faster than expected, and so did the day after. I did not expect it to wait for me, and yet- it all seemed so cruel. Personal, even. I suppose then that this is what it means to be mortal: To be a victim of time, a passenger and a victim.
How have I strayed so far from the favor of my gods?
At least I can say that I am becoming reacquainted with my body, and to my surprise it is not so unpleasant after all. I feel stronger than I remembered. I can travel quite far on nothing but grass and water, and there is something... something pleasantly satisfying about moving. Despite this body's size it is remarkably graceful.
I keep forgetting it is not just any body but my body, and I am stuck in it for the foreseeable future.
A loud splash disrupts my peaceful solitude. I raise my head, still chewing the grass in my mouth, and flatten my ears in annoyance. The audacity of some people! But my mood softens as I realize it is just a girl. I forget that I am just a boy now, I somehow forget even though I remember. My head is still fuzzy like that, like I am in two places at once. And maybe I am, maybe my magic is alive out there yearning for me the way I do for it.
The mare does not see me so I carefully look her over. She peers at herself in the water the way I did just a few days ago. I was looking at a mask, but she... I wonder what she sees, and if it is anywhere near the truth of what she is. I get the sense there's a toughness in there behind the beauty. It is that stubborn sort of toughness that, unlike most things, only grows stronger with time. I do not mind being interrupted by her.
"Enjoying what you see?" A sly smile. I take a step closer, head lowered in greeting, and slowly realize something might be wrong. She's just sitting there, like a discarded doll in the cold water. I frown. Mortals are confusing sometimes. "Are you... okay?" The last time I spoke was in birdsong- the sound of my voice now is a low growl, jarring to my ears. I try to soften my voice and it comes out now in a soft, sandpapery rumble. Better. "You must be cold."
@Lavinia <3
