Welcome to Gaia! ::

Sol stood in a vast golden meadow, the grass around her billowing and swaying. In front of her was gathered a large group of foals and young adults, watching her with keen admiration. She was in the middle of telling a story about Brunt, the Stallion of Steel. It would probably be the last story she told that day, for the sun was setting and most parents would be wanting their foals home for the night. As the shadows grew longer and the sky turn a deep red, Sol reached the climax of her story.

"And then, with hooves stronger than diamond and a heart full of determination, Brunt pulled the makeshift sledge through the woods. Though his breath came harsh and his muscles ached, the Stallion of Steel kept true to his word. He had told the old mare that on her death bed, he would see to it that she saw the ocean one last time. Perhaps this seemed like a fools errand to some, but Brunt owed this mare his life and now he would make sure she ended hers as she wished. So he pulled for a full day and through the night, and all the while Brunt spoke softly to the gentle mare. Just as the sun touched the sky, the trees thinned and the dirt turned to sand. Not much further. The ocean came into view just as the sun exploded over the horizon in its full glory. The mare, lifting her head off the bark just enough to look at the water and up at Brunt, whispered hoarsely 'Let the ocean have me young stallion... thank you.' With a silent nod, Brunt let the sledge come to stop at the water line. The mare then settled down and gazed at the water, enjoying the feel of the salty spray on her face. Brunt stood there for only a moment longer before turning and trotting back into the woods. There was no need to mourn the dead or the dying. In fact, if the dead is someone worth mourning, instead celebrate their memory. Celebrate that there exists someone who may keep their goodness alive."

"Oh please Sol... tell us one more... pleeeeeease! We PROMISE we'll go home if you just tell ooooone more!" a young colt in the front of the group pleaded as Soileana began to send them off. She looked down at him with all the softness and patience in the world, replying with her musical voice, "Oh little one... there is time for all things. Time for sleeping, time for eating... and time for stories. If you truly would like another, you may find me again some day."

"You mean... you aren't saying? Where are you going....?" a little filly whined from the middle of the group and Sol eyed them all one by one. "I may be here, or I may not. It depends upon the threads of fate and how they wish to alter my path. Perhaps you may find me here tomorrow..." However, as the crowd stared up at her with their big, shimmering eyes, full of pleading, the flutter could no long resist. With a tinkling laugh she shook his head and sighed, "Oh dear... how can I be so cold-hearted as to say no... but one more. That is all... I feel my entire day is not meant to be spent here." She said and glanced up at a stallion with intriguing markings and a ghostly, wisp of a mane stepped into the clearing.

Her eyes trailed on him for only a moment before she turned back to the group and closed her grey eyes, "Ah... hm... which story to tell... perhaps you will like Bartholomew the Bard..."

Sol then proceeded to tell the story about the silly stallion with a lute hanging around his neck and prehensile tail with which he could play the instrument. One day, he came upon a flute-playing rabbit who was being attacked by a wolf. Thinking the rabbit to be much too talented to simply be left to the wolves, Batholomew swooped forward and hit the wolf on the head with his lyre, breaking the instrument while managing to scare off the beast. Later, with the help of his new friend, Pippin the Piccolo Playing Rabbit, the lute was restored and the two went off on many fabulous adventures together...

"And that is how Bartholomew the Bard found his familiar... Pippin, the piccolo playing rabbit."

Soileana smiled softly as each foal and young stallion or mare began to wander off in their separate directions. The few who were more friendly came and nuzzled her goodbye while others simply skittered off after their parents. Finally, the clearing was empty of almost all Soq, save for the stallion who had caught her attention only moments ago. As he stepped forward and introduced himself, Sol listened intently, enjoying the sound of his voice. When he revealed that he too was a storyteller, it made all the sense in the world. Such a voice must be accustomed to capture the attention of the masses. Nodding silently she replied, "That is the magic of the wandering bard- one never tells a story quite like another. Perhaps I will retell it sometime when the fates bring me the inspiration..."

For the first time in a long time, Sol felt... curious. Here was a new, enigmatic stallion- mane and tail like wisps of wind, a curious accent, and an obvious treasure-trove of stories... and he enjoyed her telling. She almost wanted to ask him where he came from, who he was, how he came to be here... but, all in good time. Everything always happened in good time. Settling herself, she gazed at him mistily and lilted in her voice like the tinkling of small bells, "You have captured the wind in your mane... what a curious stallion... as it were, my name is Soileana... you may call me Sol." She did not pester or inquire, she simply observed, for it was the nature of all things to reveal themselves when the fates allow.