Wandering

He was surprised. Not only by her question but also by her abruptness. But it made him think. Was he running from something? And if so, then what was it? He thought back to his time when he was abandoned. He couldn't remember much. There were a few blurry images but mostly just darkness, and this heartbreaking loneliness that he would rather forget. Was that it? That pain of having no one? Just thinking about it made his heart ache.

After thinking for a few minutes, he answered I think I do know, but I don't want to talk about it. And i'm sure you want to here about it even less. And as for the game, is what you're thinking of alive?

He shook out the depressing thoughts and memories. He was determined to enjoy the walk and the game with his new friend!

She caught just a hint of there being a true stallion in him, when he admitted to not wishing to speak of whatever drove him to keep his mind so intensely occupied. A little bit of stone, a little stubbornness. In arguably keeping his mouth shut on the matter. Oh well. His problems were his own.

It is alive, yes. Have you ever played this game before?

Had he played this before? He couldn't remember for the life of him.

I don't know. I can't remember. Oh well. Is it a flower?

He hoped he would be able to guess soon. He was running out of questions.

Newly rebonded then, to have so much he couldn't remember. Beginning life again. Her heart went out to him. She knew what it was to have so many things merely be gone - yet in a way, she was envious as well. It was the weight of the past she did remember that had driven her insane. Bloody fantastic that he gets a fresh start and she had to remember the way her entire world had ripped apart.

Aye, a flower it is. Your train of thought is difficult to follow, bright one. Are you thirsty - there is a stream near by, though not the same one we have wandered away from.

The trees were thinning, the hills steepening as they walked. The land shifted, grew, shrunk, rolled through different faces under their hooves, slowly revealing any number of new areas, new secrets, new scents and sounds.

So what if this Sunspot was given the clean start she'd been denied. She was creating her own start. Who needed the trappings of her past? She would start fresh. Find a new mate, perhaps, create a new family. Or remain on her own. Thor and Flit were still wild for one another, from as far as she could tell, and Satin was still single. Maybe the other mare wasn't actually as abrasive as she had first seemed. Or maybe Frolic was more abrasive herself.

Hey, it was a fresh beginning - there was nothing but 'maybe' ahead of her. The dark, twisting determination in her heart condensed into a ball of energy, making her kick out sideways to shatter a random rock slate; it made her grin, a satisfied smirk playing over her lips as she began to prance towards the silver ribbon of water in the distance.

Not just any flower, but one in particular, in fair warning of this game. Guess it, if you can, or cry forfeit. Or perhaps we could do something different, if you bore of this.

He was a little confused as he watched her trot to the stream. She suddenly went from quiet and abrasive to slightly energetic and a little outgoing. He smiled as he trotted after her.

'I guess i'm not the only one who benefited from this walk,' he thought to himself.

He considered her offer while taking a drink.

Let's do something different. And since the game is discontinued, will you please tell me what you were thinking of?

She lifted her nose slightly, pausing long enough to eye him standing nearby. So he was getting tired of the game.

A tiger lily, she said, and lowered her head for another long sip. She wasn't willing to come up with ideas for something else to do, was sick of taking the lead between the two of them. He was too passive, too quiet, too mindlessly bouncy. It irritated her.

There had been a moment, a glimpse of some sort of substance to him, when he'd considered the dark things in his own mind he was attempting to escape. But he hadn't reinvented himself enough to really be a stallion; or it so it seemed to her.

Lifting her head again, she gave her mane a quick toss and flicked the water off her nose, tilting an ear in his direction. Waiting. Watching him for his next move.

Her heart was still cold, angry, black from the raging pain she was rising above; finally, truly rising above, allowing herself to place it all behind her and come out with a stronger soul and frank determination to keep going. And if he couldn't be interesting to her, she would take that cold heart and simply walk away. He meant nothing to her, as someone she'd only just met, whatever he might be going through. Truth be told, nobody did any more.

Weighing her options, Frolic flicked her tail and gave him a chance to be decent company. And got ready to ditch if he couldn't.