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The filly hears the voice of the other mare, and she tucks her head as tight to her body as she could. She can’t disappear, nor can she run away and hide now. She’d been seen. The filly’s first reaction to the voice is fear. The mare hated her, and was probably going to kill her at some point. Great. Coraline sighed softly before nodding her refined head. Yep. Lost as they come. Which is funny, since she was barely inside the maze. She could easily step outside of it and run away, but there was something holding her. Maybe it was the thought of finding friends. She didn’t care about secrets or treasures. The only thing in life she had truly treasured had been ripped away from her; and while it happened two years ago, she had only found out about it. That was the joy of being locked in a magical coma with no way to reach the outside world. So, the grief was still fresh in her heart, and in her yearling’s mind. She chanced a look up at the winged mare, and couldn’t help but stare. She had the most beautiful markings, and wings. (Why did they all have wings?) The filly couldn’t help but marvel at them. What was it like to feel the sky? Could she taste clouds? Did they taste as amazing as they looked? Her mind began to spin off in this direction before the voice of the mare threw a brick wall in front of it. ”C…Coraline.” The filly was trembling again. She wanted to run crying from this scene; to find Pan and Flora. They were about her age (well…mentally, anyway), and they weren’t mean to her. She didn’t understand what she had done wrong. If only she could read the thoughts of the mare, she would see the thoughts of all she wanted to find; the grandeur, the treasures, and the glory. If Coraline could have read those thoughts, she would have told the mare she could keep all that stuff. ”I’m not asking you for anything…you seem…busy.” Her voice was meek and soft. She didn’t want to anger the mare, nor did she want to be alone. Oh, curse her inability to just be bold and forward like Pan; or charming like Flora; or brave like he was. But we all have our cross to bear, it seems, and hers was fear. She could only hope that one day, she would learn to harness it, and not let it control her. ”Unless you need company…?” ”Speech” |
 | Silver chain from the pirate siren | Blue Macaw feather in mane | |
@Inkheart
