r e c k i t t
crash through the surface
where they can't hurt us
where they can't hurt us
T
here is peace here, even as Winter enfolds the land with its chill, leaving frost upon blades of grass, an encrusted platform where her pale hooves crunch. With each limping step, she is drawn further and further into the heart of Illuster Meadow, progressing over each gradual rise and fall of the land; then she stops. Kitt finds herself soaking in the simple beauty of this day, watching the Sun make its slow climb. With a deep breath, she inhales the cold scent of the meadow, then breathes out that solid intake, hoping to send with it her worries of the day, the thoughts that brought her distress, doubt. Always some here lately, things she could not help but hold on to, things that clung against her conscience. Progress with this adaptation seemed slow, it was much to take in, much to learn, to be born from one species to the next; it was so far her greatest challenge. Even the simplest of task had been a learning curve, eating, drinking, what one might have given to watch her attempt to lap water from a creek. Nothing is the same.
From above, a flock of birds takes her attention, those that did not migrate to warmer climates for the season; creatures she could admire for that. Even though things were tough, not as easy, they stuck it out- she wanted to be like them. I should try harder, she thought to herself as they paraded over her. Rouge had been a welcome friend, even if she was not the best at conveying it, even if he did not realize how thankful she was for him to find her that day. Along the river, lost in her own pain and confusion, but most of all, just simply lost. If the russet male had not approached her so, Gods know what might have befallen her, in light of everything, she was still working on finding her hope. The amount she once held, unphased and unburden by the chaos around her. It could be that today, was that day, but let us not get ahead of ourselves.
Though the grass was drying, yellowed and brittle, it was still what she needed to fill her belly. Lowering her bleached head to snag several clutches of nourishment, some sticking out of her pale mouth as she chewed in slow, deliberate bites. Even now she couldn’t quite wrap her head around that fact that it tasted good, that plant matter was filling and wholesome and divine. A sigh of satisfaction takes her, amber eyes looking over the clearing, abandoned of the bright flowers that once grew, but not abandoned of bodies. The colored forms of her Kingdom mates could be seen in the distance, moving with intent, or congregating in small groups. The intent of the day was to gather supplies, plants that could be useful, why does she feel like she’s frozen then?
Several times she though to approach them, introduce herself with a smile, give her name as cheerfully as she had back home. Such bravery and confidence was hard to follow through with, so she remains still, an onlooker.
anyone welcome | "speaks" | notes: 534
