[SRP] Moon. (Octobre)

[[Eskimo]]

The moon did something strange to Octobre that night. It wouldn't let her mind rest. She had become mildly obsessed with analyzing its every aspect. The process was irritating her--entertaining her--bewildering her--soothing her...

The moon was comforting without being ablaze with warmth like the sun. It had become familiar over time, yet when she regarded it for what it truly was, it was something alien--overwhelming, but not frightening. It was a light in the darkness, but not blindingly so. She had heard of poetic fools likening others to the moon. Octobre had never recognized any such similarities with anyone. But now she was beginning to think she understood why they could compare someone else to the moon. There was someone--...no, how foolish. She wouldn't admit that kind of thing. It was silly--something a foal might say. Octobre was no foal.

Reclining under a large willow whose tendrils stopped just barely above her ears, Octobre regarded the lake in an attempt to rid her mind of what she considered to be useless thoughts. It was a process she normally performed to help her fall asleep when lying down (which could at times be difficult). Lakes were beautiful and calming. She enjoyed water. Unfortunately the blackness of the pool reminded her of blood, and she felt a tiny...twinge. Strange. She never used to get them. Now it was all the time. She had previously thought that having an aid to assist her in blood-collecting would quiet her zeal somewhat. Then again, it was her zeal that had brought her to consider an aid in the first place. Life always failed to be as simple as she wished...

As the lake hadn't done its job properly, Octobre looked instead to the stars. The stars, however, quickly pointed their arms to the moon, and Octobre found herself back at square one.

Nearly irritated at this point, the mare shifted her position slightly enough so that she was looking left towards the fields and trees. As a nightly breeze rushed through the surrounding willows, their leaves swaying sleepily as it went, Octobre fixed her gaze on the gentle motions and she opened herself to its hypnotism. When it was beginning to work, Octobre's imagination let her see that the leaves seemed very much like hair, not at all unlike a wind-touched mane. And the mane it conjured up in her mind was--...

Jerking her head away from the sight, Octobre's mouth grew taut and her eyes snapped down to her front hooves. But they were the darkest of crimson and had her mind wandering again. The lake, the trees, the grass--no, the sky again!

When the mare had grown dangerously close to frustration, she finally closed her eyes. She focused on her own breathing and the sound of the wind. The sound of the lake. The sounds of crickets and skittish nocturnal birds. The night offered a kind of softness that the day never could, and Octobre began to find peace in its rhythm. Brow relaxing, mouth growing lax, she released an exhale of built-up negativity. Before she could inhale again herself, she heard a separate inhale that was not her own. She stopped awkwardly mid-breath and opened her eyes.

Against her own wishes, her gaze flicked over her shoulder and found a sleeping lump of a stallion.

Braxton.

Huddled against a willow of his own, he was sleeping peacefully (although momentarily disturbed by something judging from his sudden sharp inhale). Another breeze moved the leaves of the willows, sweeping them above the sleeping boy. For a moment Octobre wondered if they had touched his ear and roused him. But he was out now, that was clear. The leaves swayed again, and so did the stallion's mane. Octobre watched it and her lids drooped lightly. Her once-cold glare softened.

Foal-like or not, what did it matter? Was comparing someone to an object--an element--the cosmos--really so foolish? Octobre wasn't above changing her opinions. It didn't matter. Many things didn't.

Octobre let her eyes fall closed, but not before taking in one last image of her sleeping companion. Her twitching ears fell back.

That was it, then. It wasn't so silly to acknowledge, at least in her own mind. Saying it aloud would've been pointless. But for now she could recognize the similarity in her own mind openly. It didn't matter. If it was foolish, then so be it. Let someone else call it foolish. But her thought was hers alone. She was the keeper of many of her own secrets. For now, the thought was contained. She alone could hear it. She alone could call out the similarity she saw in silence.

Braxton reminded her of the moon.

Head lowering itself inch by inch, Octobre wondered why she had put off thinking it in the first place. It hadn't been so bad to admit. In fact, she felt calmer because of it. Still, there was something else in the back of her mind...

Body sagging, breaths evening, Octobre let her chin rest beside her arm.

Something else...she wasn't acknowledging...but what...?

Braxton and the moon...but what did it mean...? Was there something else...something...

She...

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Wasn't...

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