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 Posted: Tue May 08, 2007 12:58 pm
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"Wandering In Mind and Body"
Kisoni [snip!] To say that all was quiet was an understatement; never before had Ansel heard such a quiet night. His ears flicked back and forth against bugs that didn't exist, and he turned his head from the light of the cabins to see into the forest beyond. As his eyes adjusted, the moon filled in information in the black that he'd been missing. A ghostly sea of grass sweapt out in front of him, the meadow that had long since been cleared as a boundary between the forest and settlement. A silve haze billowed and furled upon it--fog, or mist, was creeping in upon them. Ansel's eyes narrowed lightly and he cast a nervous glance back at the Cabins before heading away into the night.
Normally Ansel wasn't one to leave his boy behind, but Christien had always given him freedom if he so chose it. Now that their new Native friends had showed what great freedoms they gave the horses they called "Soquili" Christen had even taken to leaving the fence gate open. It was a strange rush, true freedom.
Ansel tossed his head, his chestnut mane turned deep umber in the dark, and let himself wade into the chill of floating water and freezing loam. Now that he was out, he could hear cicadas in the distance, yet none near here. It was odd, to say the least, and Ansel found himself pulled irresistably forward by a curiosity. The beast in him knew that such silence only brought bad things, but intelligence was the Soquilli and Human's curse alike. Once Intelligence was factored in, it often lead to curiosity, and together they could over power the common sense of instinct. It wasn't long before he reached the edge of the meadow. Once more, Ansel cast a glance behind him, but he was too far gone to turn back now. With a snort that cast a temporary fog of its own, Ansel returned his gaze to the woodland and pushed past the treeline.
He had trod through many a stand of trees in his life, the ranch he'd begun on having been littered with the kind, but the plants in this new land were still foreign to him. In the night there were even more smells of uncertain orgins, and songs of creatures he couldn't identify. His instincts told him to run from the dangers most certainly come with these foreign things, and Ansel's curiosity blanketed them till they were little more than a mosquito buzzing about his ear. He flicked even that away, time and time again until it was annoyed enough to find easier prey.
Nothing came with barred teeth or growling threats, much to Ansel's growing delight. Yet, he hadn't found the source of that unnatural silence, either. It didn't persist as heavily here as it had at the cabins, for there were calls of hunter owls and busy insects in the background. Though dulled by the chill, as most insects were, it was still a little too quiet for his liking. Ansel stopped, suddenly, half down a tiny cliff that had likely been cut by water or a trees root decades ago; he wasn't home and hadn't been for quite some time. Perhaps what he thought of as unnatural was natural here? He pondered that a moment, a statue hewn in the stillness of revelation and wonder for all to see by the moonlight that night. For months they had toiled here, and worked their way into this New World. Even Christien, heart-broken and anxious as he was, had come to like, if not love, this new land. Yet, despite their time here, Ansel had not accepted it as his home.
The thought of ever making that trip back across the turbulent, tossing waters they'd come from was enough to make the large Soquili shake and break his ever-stiffening stance. No, he would never be 'home' again. There was a sudden, hard lump deep inside of his chest that Ansel knew, as surely as he knew the sun would rise in the East and there would be a rainbow after a storm, he'd never quite shake. He'd told himself since he was young that his home was with Christien, no matter where it took him, but the reality wasn't quite so simple as that.
Ansel's eyes closed and he heaved a small sigh. He was an adult, and as such he could handle a little homesickness, no matter how odd or sudden it was. He set his hooves to moving again, lifting them as high as he always did no matter how much he wanted to let them drag. Sure, he wasn't home, but that was no reason to mope. There wasn't a thing anyone could do of it now, and Ansel truly wasn't certain he'd return if he could. Another sound reached his ears in the still of the night, and Ansel perked them towards it. Running water, he realized after a moment, turning his nose towards it. A drink was definatly in order.
The location wasn't very far from where he'd been, either. Ansel allowed himself the faintest of smiles for the tiny, clear babbling brook. A few fireflys danced lazily in the mist that still clung to the edge of the land about them, as if they hadn't the sense to get out of the cold. Somehow the sight lifted his mood a little, and Ansel gave a low, wickering laugh as he lowered his muzzle to the stream.
Happy Tofu [snip!] Huyana found comfort in silence. Her "sister" found it whenever she held control of a situation; her human companion found it in loud music and warm, sunny days. Yet, for the young Flutter, absolutely nothing could compare to the feel of a cool, silent night.
This night had already succeeded in seducing Huyana, luring her away from her sleeping family and into the nearby woods. She never once stopped to consider where she was going, though, because destination simply isn't important when one is being drawn by the breeze, the darkness, not when the journey itself is the true objective. Nor when the invisible spirits have a much better idea of where she ought to go anyhow.
The young Soquili often traveled with her eyes closed, focusing instead on the feel of the air and trusting the night to guide her safely; despite this, it was still immediately clear to Huyana when her setting changed, the trees clearing way into a soft meadow, carpeted in a gorgeous array of pastel greens and speckled in dew. She could hear the grass, smell the brook, feel the soft touch of a stray firefly; she knew exactly what she'd find before ever opening her eyes, but this didn't stop her from feeling a slight rush at the sight when she finally did.
This place, this small clearing in the middle of a non-too-special forest, was her own vision of heaven. And as she lowered herself down into the grass, wanting nothing more than to lay awake all night, enjoying every moment of it, the soft trickling sounds of the stream was already beginning to lull her to sleep. And before long, she was.
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