Rainforest Cliffs
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R I X E N I fell into stride alongside Kiada as we headed to the Rainforest Cliffs. It was a smooth journey. The wind in my mane and an opportunity to stretch my legs after swimming for so long were much appreciated. For the duration of our travels, my mind was occupied with what a Forest Walker was. What did one look like? How were we supposed to bring them our hope if we did not know how to identify them? These things would work themselves out, I reassured myself. As we approached and eventually entered the grove of tall trees, I slowed my pace. My hoofsteps became more deliberate and cautious, my ears flicking to and fro so that I might be able to hear the sounds of anything that approached us. I glanced up briefly as Khairi flew from Kiada’s shoulder and disappeared in the canopy of leaves. The mare remarked with a small smile in my direction that it was to get a better look at our surroundings, and I gave a nod of acknowledgement. The vulture had just finished helping Kiada put on her rose-tinted armor. This reminded me that I had no protection of my own. No magical powers, and most definitely no armor. I was completely exposed, vulnerable to the will of these so-called “Forest Walkers.” Or so I thought. Upon wishing that I too had a set of armor to protect me, the pendant that the Matron had given me unfolded. With a whir of gold and a clang of metal, I found myself outfitted in a set of golden armor that matched my helmet. I could not have been more surprised, but I managed to stifle the gasp in my throat. The armor was a better surprise that I could ever have imagined, yet I played it off as if I had produced an entire gleaming set of armor from my delicate golden necklace a thousand times before. Now, without a doubt, I looked the part. Silently thanking the Matron again for the gift, I followed the black-and-gold mare as she started up again. "We ought to have a look around, and see what we can find. The Forest Walkers probably aren’t going to come looking for us." But before Kiada could answer, the air was filled with a strange sound. The words were almost a completely different language in themselves. To my ears, the voice (if you could call it that) sounded like nails scraping on a chalkboard. It was a voice that made me wince upon hearing it, and one that I recognized. Sure enough, I turned to see an old grey mare wearing a crown of sharp branches upon her head. I had met her once before by Unwaritace, a burned tree in the west. Her one remaining eye bulged in its socket as it examined us. "I beg your pardon?" Was all that I could respond. "Talk." they heard me singing and they told me to stop quit these pretentious things and just punch the clock |
