Rainforest Cliffs
07-17-2017, 05:34 PM
The small black, the foal, seemed little deterred by the distinct show of unfriendliness and that youthful defiance, her confidence, spurred the long gold-fringed tail behind to flick sharply. Had the Zahra ever been so brash? More often than she might have preferred, vision of younger days returned to suggest that a happier, adventurous soul had once existed - shell collections, clover prisoners - yet it was always so difficult to decipher the fact from the fiction… The barrage of memories was always so wild and obscure, and there were times revisited that she could just not fit into her short-spanned existence.
As the tiny chiselled face shakes in answer, beloved golden hue catches her eye. Seconds before, she felt little inclined to explore the bug-sized stranger, yet as her pale eyes drank still more of the filly’s exterior, curiosity reared its unpopular face.
One ear swung pensively backwards as the spider-mare regarded the quiet words stated.
Another had already materialised through the veil of leaf and rain, similar in size to the (apparently), resolved little girl, and as her company’s head swivelled to notice, Zahra too shifted focus.
What was this?
The image of another - another - burned through her mind with all of the ferocity, vibrancy, of forked lightning. This time, there was clarity before her squeezed eyes; a tall stallion, golden against a field of fresh snow - with a putrid pasty horn jutting from the skin above each eye (she couldn’t place the reason for her racism, only that it was as much a burden in her heart as the pit of blackness in her soul). With an unsettled feeling churning in her gut, the arachnophile beheld the marine-eyed colt’s arrival with unbridled wariness.
And inhospitable silence.
As though caught in slow motion - at least according to Zahra - he manoeuvred a few concluding steps across bold buttress-roots to be with them.
'Hello,' he greeted in a puny, pathetic voice and honey gaze retired with rising weariness, to the world of emerald giants beyond him.
The deliberately aimless wandering of her mind was culled suddenly and her attention lured back, by the sound of the filly’s firmer voice. 'Gwyn,' she revealed to the unanimous question as it hung on unanswered, above the pitter-patter of relentless falling water. “Cute…” the oldest muttered with feigning interest, aiming a narrowed glance towards the boy before then sharing her name. “Zahra.”
“Like delicate lace,
So the threads intertwine,
Oh, gossamer web
Of wond'rous design!
Such beauty and grace
Wild nature produces...
Ughh, look at the spider
Suck out that bug's juices!”
Image
@Galahad
