i raised myself, my legs were weak
i prayed my mind be good to me
i prayed my mind be good to me
T
he sound of soft laughter drifted from the hall and into the room, reminding Grey just how alone he was in this new world. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed, not with any true amount of joy. Had he ever laughed like that with Amaranthus, or had it only been before—with his brother, his King. His friends and family.He couldn't say.
The unicorn had spent too many days, endless days and too short nights, wandering through the court that had become his new place of residence (it was not his home, never could be). Now, with ash dropping from the sky like snowfall and the day as dark as the night, Grey felt more restless than ever.
Equines hunkered down in their homes, away from the thick, suffocating smoke, only venturing out when absolutely necessary. But they, unlike he, were not alone. With a fire to warm their bodies and company to warm their hearts, they would be bale to ride out the erupting volcano in the distance, as he'd quickly found out it was.
But Grey, Grey had none. So, he'd tied a scrap of cloth about his mouth and nose, and wandered. Ash sprinkled his coat, mixing with the ever present crystals there. Without sun he seemed duller, less like brilliant ice and more like roadside snow. Forgotten, pushed aside, ignored.
He'd left the court walls and walked, and walked, until he entered the same forest where he'd met the boy, Mateo. He'd walked and walked, until he had happened across the strange, mystical library built of trees.
And although he wasn't alone (there was the mysterious owners of the laughter, of course), there was something strangely comforting about this place. Thus, the unicorn found himself aimlessly browsing a shelf of records not sure what he was looking for, but not sure if he was looking for anything exact, anyway.
@Toulouse | "speaks" | notes: I hope this is good!
