[Quest] it cries through the night

[Charlotte]

find me where the wild things are

The storm hadn’t bothered Charlie. She wasn’t like the other foals, who quivered at the first sign of lightning or hide beneath their parents at the booming of thunder. She loved to watch the dark clouds roll in and blanket the sky, but that didn’t mean her mom would let her out in it. So, she’d had no choice but to watch out her window until her lids were too heavy and she fell asleep.

The next morning, the pegasus filly charged out into the court streets, splashing through puddles and laughing with youthful abandon. She raced down alley after alley until she was free of the court and her hooves landed on soft grass instead of cobbled stone. Nothing would stop her, of that she was sure.

Nothing, except the pile up of downed trees at the edge of the swamp. Charlie paused before the destruction, but something inside her said she needed to find her way through, or around. She couldn’t explain the feeling, but it was like a need. Sort of like the one she had the first time she saw the sea, and knew she was meant to sail it one day.

Charlie was determined to get past the trees, to find out what was on the other side of them, but the ground was pockmarked with sinkholes and unsuspecting ditches filled with water. The filly narrowed her bright vermillion eyes and began to circle around them, watching her steps and beating her wings wildly to help keep them light. It was tedious and time consuming but she refused to give up.

Soon she was free of the marshes and onto more solid ground, the grass giving way to hard rock and sheer drops. Charlie loved the cliffs, loved the feel of the wind in her feathers and the sight of the sea far below her. But beneath the beating drum of the sea and the whispering song of the sea there was a voice, calling—no, crying. For help.

She followed the sound to the very top of the cliffs, where Charlie found the great tree felled onto its side. The crying was coming from among the branches, a sad, searching sound. Charlie had never heard anything like it, except for that one time she remembered walking with her mom through the marketplace and saw some little lost colt screaming for his mom.

Charlie squeezed her way into the branches, gritting her teeth as they snagged in her hair, tugged on her wings and scratched against her skin. When she found the nest with the one lone chick sitting in it, her eyes widened in surprise. “...You alone?” she said, and to her great surprise the young bird seemed to understand and bobbed its head up and down, golden eyes wet and sad.

“It’s okay,” the girl said, stretching her nose forward to pick up the small bird, “You can come home with me, I will keep you safe.” And as Charlie freed them both from the fallen tree and turned back toward her home she thought that this was the best adventure she had been on so far in her life, “My name is Charlie.” Her new friend and companion nestled into the mess of hair on the filly’s head and spoke, ”...Charlie,”and realizing that she too could understand felt like this was right.

"Speaking."

credits

@Random Events