[WP09] Shush & Foxy

[Jun D]

5. Moon

Her mother, back when she had a mother, had told her some nights were all dark, and some nights were bright. That the moon shone over, like a night-time sun. But the rays were cool, not warm. When Shush was a foal, she would stand in the plains on nights her mother said the moon shone, and she'd swear she could feel the cool moon-rays. That was a lie she'd only wanted to believe. She could not feel the moon's rays any more than she could see them. She only knew when the moon was overhead, when Kin who wandered at night gasped as they glimpsed her pale form. It was easier to be seen, then, when the moon was overhead. And then, she would run, for it was not good to be seen.

Still, in her dreams, she could feel the cool moon-rays. The moon was no more her friend than the sun, but foal-Shush still wanted to believe.

She felt them now, as she took soft dream-steps, undisturbed. She thought about the doe who had seen her. And spoke. And touched.  

[Maxx D]

17. Lightning
When she heard the thunder, her head lifted sharply and her half-lidded eyes widened just as the lightning fell upon the - swamp? Mountains? It had been so dangerous in the mountains, and it would certainly be no less dangerous in the swamp - it was hard to find a cave for shelter, and there was so much water. Where was Heart? Oh dear. Her tails flicked as she looked about. She could not tell which was which, for the rocky landscape in the distance was peppered by grass and pools, while the ground below her hooves were soft and mossy with the powder of snow.

Her instincts remained: Foxy was much more concerned about the lightning than the queerness of her surroundings.  

[Jun D]

6. Shooting Star

She could hear the taut-bright twinkle of a star overhead. (It took a long time for foal-Shush to admit she could not hear the stars, but in her dreams, still she did.) She craned her neck, flicking her ears this way and that: it was more of a continuous tinkle, that twinkle, almost a sizzling streak.

Make a wish, the dream-voice of her mother said.

Her mother had told her of shooting stars, the best and brightest of all stars – for they could run, and they ran across the sky.

What happens when they stop running? Foal-shush had asked.

Make a wish, her mother had said. She never did say what happened when they stopped running.

Shush did not make a wish. She turned her ears this way and that, picked up the sound of the tinkling trail, and started running.  

[Maxx D]

6. Shooting Star
It was a little harder to see the stars in the swamp, she noticed, but for the lushness of the land - well, she would make that sacrifice. Not that she had much of a choice now, being here. It was quite lovely that she could see the stars tonight. And as one fell, a tell-tale streak, she smiled because it was such a familiar sight that she could almost hear -

- she could almost -

- you were not supposed to hear the streak of a falling star.

Instead, she realised it was hoofsteps, and as she looked to the source, she saw the pale doe galloping, soft locks streaming in the wind. And she saw the smooth shine off her muzzle. It was her, and Foxy felt obliged to tell her - stop running! You're blind! This is incredibly dangerous!

Rising from her rest, she wound her tails together as much as she could, and started to gallop after her herself, following the streak of white that sprinted across the swamp. "Wait!" She cried, blinking in the wind.  

[Jun D]

6. Shooting Star

She was not alone.

The star suddenly sounded much, much nearer than before - she crashed to a halt.

17. Lightning

All around was the sound of crashing thunder – lightning struck, nearer than she'd like, the sharp smell of ozone and charred wood, the sizzle of a falling star.

Make a wish – perhaps this was what happened when shooting stars stopped running.

Shush had stopped running. She was not alone. She turned, tail to head to tail - where was that voice? The voice had called – wait!

She had heard that voice before.  

[Maxx D]

17. Lightning

Foxy smiled a bit when she sighted the stopped doe below her thick lashes proper, surprised that she stopped running. She recalled her, so frightened, that she felt so guilty about intruding...but it was true. "Hello darling, it's me," was that too forward? She'd already said it though. "You shouldn't run - well -" her tails flicked up as the thunder rumbled again, "you're - " and she couldn't bring herself to say it. "You shouldn't run alone, not in this weather. Come, it's too dangerous." And so she took the courtesy to swish her tails together, in hopes that it was a signal.  

[Jun D]

17. Lightning

It was the doe.

The doe who had seen her. And touched her. So hard and so soft at the same time.

Hard like the sound of thunder, soft like the gentle rain. Around them the rain was falling, cold, gentle fingers of rain.

5. Moon

The cool rays of moonlight, like a soothing friend. The doe's voice sounded like moon-rays, soft and cool.

Come, she had said, you shouldn't run alone.

She could hear the swish-slip-slide of fur on fur – that soft, gentle fur. Did the doe mean for her to approach? She had said, come, it's too dangerous.

You shouldn't run alone.

It had been so long since someone had spoken to her. Ever since...

The doe's voice was cool, and soft. She felt like the moon.

"Are you..." it had been so long since she had spoken, "...the moon?"  

[Maxx D]

5. Moon
Foxy was ever-surprised by this pale doe, so beautiful and so contrary. Why, she looked like the moon, all soft and pale and an absolute beacon in the night, like a new-born (cream coated, she noted) lamb resting sleepily in a dull, dreary cave. Her locks were like the tendrils of moonlight, so cold, but warm and bright on the snow. Her voice - her voice! She spoke! so quiet and so meek for such a beautiful girl. It was funny, but this doe - clearly from a different land as well - this doe reminded her of home.

And she laughed her low, warm laugh, her thick fur coat rustling along with her. "I'm sorry darling," she said, merry now that the storm had stopped and everything was so charming and absurd. "I'm afraid I'm only Foxy."

END