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When the mare didn’t rise up to beat in Coraline’s head with a hoof, the silver mare raised her head marginally. She looked up at the gray creature, and stared for a moment. She was possibly the most beautiful thing that Coraline had ever seen. Sleek, shiny, a mane and tail to die for, and the most unusual markings on her neck and legs. The filly didn’t mean to stare, but seeing something so beautiful amidst the panic and fear and subsequent flight in the desert was not something she had been expecting. After stammering a moment (imagine a fish out of water, trying to scream “Help me!” but failing) she composed herself enough to spit out a few words that sounded at least, in part, normal. ”Yeah…I think I’m ok. Nothing feels broken.” She took a minute and transferred her weight to each hoof in turn. The left fore was a bit tender, but she would be able to walk. That’s what happens when you run headlong into a solid creature. The filly felt the shame and embarrassment rise up again. She wanted to crumble into the earth and never be seen again. Oh how the mare must think she was an idiot! She spoke of creatures that could move around without being seen. As if the filly needed any further reason to be terrorized by her lack of maternal loving, she looked around frantically through her button eyes. That had to be it. It wasn’t a simple pine cone – it was one of those invisible creatures that was going to eat her! The filly groaned as she pranced a moment in place, afraid that at any second, a giant pair of fangs would reach up and pull her under. Now the one thing you must understand about dear Coraline is that while she appears to be a three year old, mentally, she’s still a yearling. She was in a magical coma that lasted nearly two years. Her body grew, but her mind was unable to. And her mother hated her. She was never given proper guidance or love, and has no reference to live by, except the horror stories her mother told her about all the things that should kill her. She is learning – slowly – that not all the world is a bad place, but she still has a long way to go, especially on her own. The mare knew where she was from. Was that a good sign or a bad one? Coraline looked around, and realized she truly didn’t know where she was, or how she ended up here. She had simply been out looking for Pandora – her fox with the sewn seams and button eyes that Maaemo had given her; she seemed to be lost again. All these strange magical places were taking a toll on the filly and the foxling. ”I think that’s where I’m from. I only found Pan, and I don’t think he’s the leader there…but he was the leader of the lost boys.” A bit of useless information, but the filly felt the need to defend her friend’s honor, even though it was not in question. Pan had admirably lead the lost boys for the whole time he ran Neverland. They had never been in a war, and had never been in trouble. Pan was a great leader in her little mind. And one of her only friends, now that everyone else was dead…er…missing. Yeah, that’s it. They were just missing, and would show up soon. They had to…right? Coraline would believe anything in order to keep her mind from knowing they were all dead. Solterra. Pan had said something about this place. This was where Flora lived! ”Do you know a filly named Flora? She’s a friend of mine. I wanted to find her, and got lost, but it seems I might be in the right place after all!” There it was – that flutter of hope deep within her breast. Pan said she was here, and that she was alive. That meant that the others had to be here, too! Maybe he wasn’t really gone – maybe he wound up here like the rest of them! Oh, if only, if only! All she wanted was her best friend back. But even she, with her child’s mind, knew that he was gone. Lost forever to whatever great world lay beyond this one. She looked at the gray mare with hope shining in her button eyes (as much as a button can show emotion), and hoped that Flora, at least, may be here. She didn’t want to go home without seeing someone else she knew. She felt dreadfully lonely, and the weight of all the horrors of the world (this one, and the last one) were weighing down on her delicate little head. ”Speech” |
 | Silver chain from the pirate siren | Blue Macaw feather in mane | |
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