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No, it isn’t you in particular. It’s the fact that you’re another creature, and the filly has been conditioned to believe that everyone and everything is a danger. Her mother was barely a mother, and could spare no kind word. The only words spared were of the creatures that should eat her, and how awful she was because she was different. As if different was bad. Coraline had grown to learn that she was no good; worthless, if you will, and deserved no kindness. This does not mean she does not crave it. In fact, the girl is so desperate to be loved, to feel a loving kiss upon her brow, that it is nearly all-consuming. Yet she will never ask for it. She will simply crave it, and absorb it in the moments she gets it. All other times, she is convinced she will be killed for her differences, despite the obvious fact that there are others who are even more strangely marked than she. But she doesn’t see that. She sees them all as beautiful – perfect. None of them have the black markings of shame, nor button eyes. The girl feels no self pity, mind you, but fear and repulsion at her differences. The mare changed her entire demeanor in a moment, and Coraline stood confused. Was she going to be a friend now, or was this a trick to eat her? She spoke again, of the center of the maze, or the exit, and the filly listened carefully. It sounded dangerous, but exciting at the same time. What would they find at the center of the maze? The filly imagined it would be a family, marked just like her – silver with black points and button eyes, and she would find Pandora – her stuffed fox with the sewn seams and matching button eyes. She missed her companion, but had grown used to the fact that Pandora was never with her when she woke in these strange new places. It was only a matter of time before the foxling was found again, and the filly knew it. Yes – she would follow this mare into the scary maze if it meant finding a family and Pandora. She knew that it would be harder for a monster to eat both of them, and maybe they didn’t like horses with wings, and she would be safe. The filly’s lips tugged up in a ghost of a smile. If the filly could have read the mare’s mind, she probably would have left, her little heart crushed. She wanted to be big and brave and strong. She was, after all, a three year old! But her mind was trapped as that of a yearling. It wasn’t her fault. The magical coma she had been stuck in didn’t allow her mind to grow and age. Instead, she was locked in dreams with Pan, Flora, and him. They ran and frolicked. Played tag and chase. Raced on the beach against the sea lion that barked and frightened Pandora. ”Well… let’s find the middle of this maze.” She gave a small smile again, this time, more ready for the adventure. ”Speech” |
 | Silver chain from the pirate siren | Blue Macaw feather in mane | |
@Inkheart
