be the it, girl
Mama said, fulfill the prophecy be something greater, go make a legacy, manifest destiny, back in the days we wanted everything, wanted everything. Mama said, burn your biographies, rewrite your history, light up your wildest dreams, museum victories, every day we wanted everything, wanted everything.
The young girl has been running all over the court all morning, trying to find Commander Marisol. She looks in the castle first, skirting down hallways and sliding around corners, Indy following on silent wings just behind her. Until a very stern faced man tells her that “The Queen is not in and you must go.”
What a killjoy.
Charlie sincerely hopes that he doesn’t have kids, and is very sorry for them if he does.
So, out on the steps with the entire court before her, the 6-month old pauses—vermillion eyes serious. Indy perches upon her withers, carefully curling her talons about the willowy girl’s shoulder blades. “Well, that was a bust,” she grumbles, blowing a bit of her forelock out of the way of her face. “Where do you think we should check next, Indy?”
Her bonded is quiet for a moment, then, “It would take all day to search everywhere. And I love you but I’m not a one bird search party. Where did you usually find her, you know, before she became Queen?” Charlie scrunches up her nose and thinks. She has always admired Commander Marisol, but until more recently never talked to her. Just watched how awesome she was.
And that’s when she figures out where to look, and what a stupidly easy place it is. The training grounds! It’s always where Charlie would have seen her, whether she was training herself or practicing with the cadets. The filly has spent way more time at the barracks and the training grounds than she probably is supposed to, but when you’re like her and have free run of the world there’s nothing you don’t do.
She races down the steps, Indy leaving her perch on her shoulders with a few beats of her wings and taking off into the air. The Osprey’s shadow falls over Charlie’s, mimicing the girl’s own wings as if they were splayed open at her sides. Together the pair speed through the streets. Both know the way there by heart.
They would know it in the dark, or blindfolded. The way to the training grounds is in their blood.
It doesn’t take them long to arrive, but Charlie is an endless reserve of energy, already brushing past the barracks and straight for the open fields used for sparring and other things. Slowing, she spies Commander Marisol in the distance throwing her spear. Awed, she stops to watch. The Commander doesn’t miss.
It’s awesome.
One day Charlie wants to be as good with a weapon as her.
When the Commander stops and seems to come to a rest on the ground, Charlie remembers her excitement and begins to bound forward again. Her small hooves beat a stacatto against the hard ground, and Indy circles a few times above before landing on the remains of the dummy. Her vermillion eyes are sharp and bright with enthusiasm.
“I came to find you, Commander Marisol!” Charlie says, hopping a backwards a little bit as the older pegasus sits up. She stands straighter, puffs out her chest and dons a most serious expression. For as long as she can hold it, anyway, before the energy bubbles over again. “I needed to show you something! Look!”
The filly turns toward an open stretch of ground and stretches out her wings. The sun is high and dazzling and she can feel the wind brushing against each of her feathers. Charlie narrows her eyes, and begins to run.
And then, she begins to flap her wings. Great, fast strokes of her wings. One, two, three, and then her hooves are no longer touching the ground. She doesn’t get very high, perhaps, and although the young pegasus hasn’t testing exactly how far she can go, the fact that she can actually fly is enough to make her excited for weeks to come. She’s been dying to fly since the day she first put her hooves on the ground, and practicing almost every day since.
Charlie turns in the sky, a little wobbly, and heads back toward the Commander. And although she skids and stumbles some on the landing, she’s already rushing back toward Marisol with a beaming smile on her face. “I did it! I had to show you first.”
What a killjoy.
Charlie sincerely hopes that he doesn’t have kids, and is very sorry for them if he does.
So, out on the steps with the entire court before her, the 6-month old pauses—vermillion eyes serious. Indy perches upon her withers, carefully curling her talons about the willowy girl’s shoulder blades. “Well, that was a bust,” she grumbles, blowing a bit of her forelock out of the way of her face. “Where do you think we should check next, Indy?”
Her bonded is quiet for a moment, then, “It would take all day to search everywhere. And I love you but I’m not a one bird search party. Where did you usually find her, you know, before she became Queen?” Charlie scrunches up her nose and thinks. She has always admired Commander Marisol, but until more recently never talked to her. Just watched how awesome she was.
And that’s when she figures out where to look, and what a stupidly easy place it is. The training grounds! It’s always where Charlie would have seen her, whether she was training herself or practicing with the cadets. The filly has spent way more time at the barracks and the training grounds than she probably is supposed to, but when you’re like her and have free run of the world there’s nothing you don’t do.
She races down the steps, Indy leaving her perch on her shoulders with a few beats of her wings and taking off into the air. The Osprey’s shadow falls over Charlie’s, mimicing the girl’s own wings as if they were splayed open at her sides. Together the pair speed through the streets. Both know the way there by heart.
They would know it in the dark, or blindfolded. The way to the training grounds is in their blood.
It doesn’t take them long to arrive, but Charlie is an endless reserve of energy, already brushing past the barracks and straight for the open fields used for sparring and other things. Slowing, she spies Commander Marisol in the distance throwing her spear. Awed, she stops to watch. The Commander doesn’t miss.
It’s awesome.
One day Charlie wants to be as good with a weapon as her.
When the Commander stops and seems to come to a rest on the ground, Charlie remembers her excitement and begins to bound forward again. Her small hooves beat a stacatto against the hard ground, and Indy circles a few times above before landing on the remains of the dummy. Her vermillion eyes are sharp and bright with enthusiasm.
“I came to find you, Commander Marisol!” Charlie says, hopping a backwards a little bit as the older pegasus sits up. She stands straighter, puffs out her chest and dons a most serious expression. For as long as she can hold it, anyway, before the energy bubbles over again. “I needed to show you something! Look!”
The filly turns toward an open stretch of ground and stretches out her wings. The sun is high and dazzling and she can feel the wind brushing against each of her feathers. Charlie narrows her eyes, and begins to run.
And then, she begins to flap her wings. Great, fast strokes of her wings. One, two, three, and then her hooves are no longer touching the ground. She doesn’t get very high, perhaps, and although the young pegasus hasn’t testing exactly how far she can go, the fact that she can actually fly is enough to make her excited for weeks to come. She’s been dying to fly since the day she first put her hooves on the ground, and practicing almost every day since.
Charlie turns in the sky, a little wobbly, and heads back toward the Commander. And although she skids and stumbles some on the landing, she’s already rushing back toward Marisol with a beaming smile on her face. “I did it! I had to show you first.”
@Marisol <3
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you and i, we're pioneers
we make our own rules
