Cies was still; the heart of night had long since passed yet the sun was reluctant to peek its weary head above the tallest trees. She anticipated its yawn, a vivacious call to order. “Awaken,” It would cry. “I have chased the shadows away.” She peered towards the back of the burrow at her quiescent brother, his eyes rolling behind their lids in his late night reverie. Cies wondered what the boy might be dreaming of, quietly wishing she could find a way to nod off and join him.
Her eyes returned to the still horizon and the hush that accompanied it; she had never known how quiet the early hours could be, without the mockingbird’s many imitations or the chattering of chipmunks. She dipped her head in silent annoyance, casting one last irritated look about the garden. It was about this time a thin melody drifted through the heavily wooded forest, trembling and delicate. Cies found herself focusing on the soft refrain, her curiosity noticeably pricked. Stumbling to arise she ambled towards the source, though even when she thought herself close enough to catch a glimpse she continuously found herself farther than anticipated. She brushed thick dewy leaves aside, hooves sinking slightly in the dense moss. Turning about Cies abruptly realized she could no longer find which way was what and an innate sense of panic struck, strengthened by a mysterious snap of a twig. Without another rational thought the filly bolted in cold fright, caring only to rid herself of the malevolence she was positive was following her.
Her eyes returned to the still horizon and the hush that accompanied it; she had never known how quiet the early hours could be, without the mockingbird’s many imitations or the chattering of chipmunks. She dipped her head in silent annoyance, casting one last irritated look about the garden. It was about this time a thin melody drifted through the heavily wooded forest, trembling and delicate. Cies found herself focusing on the soft refrain, her curiosity noticeably pricked. Stumbling to arise she ambled towards the source, though even when she thought herself close enough to catch a glimpse she continuously found herself farther than anticipated. She brushed thick dewy leaves aside, hooves sinking slightly in the dense moss. Turning about Cies abruptly realized she could no longer find which way was what and an innate sense of panic struck, strengthened by a mysterious snap of a twig. Without another rational thought the filly bolted in cold fright, caring only to rid herself of the malevolence she was positive was following her.
