❥ THE LADY ESPEON "MEMORY"
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Behind the scenes the carousel may have been a rag-tag group of entertainers but one thing they would not condone was for their members to appear unpresentable when greeted by their agog and adoring audience. Before each performance the group would embark on the lengthy procedure of decorating the surrounding area; dyed cloth enchanted with ornate prints would hang from tree to tree, woven between unruly branches and leaves, leaving the ends to hang loose, floating mere centimetres above the ground. They would then work on the lighting, using man-made mottled paper lanterns concealing wax candles of varying degrees of colour, shapes and sizes that would set the tone for the individual performances that had been scheduled for the coming night. After the lighting was in place the group as a whole would start piecing the stages together, some props taking three or more carousel members to lift with the help of ropes wrapped around strong over-head branches for support. Other stages required less maintenance and would only need a small assortment of ornaments, floral arrangements and a couple layers of paint. Lastly they would set up the stalls which would offer treats and various other items that the carousel had acquired on their travels; while some services were offered freely in order to please the visitors, others were not.

Placing the last of the flowers in a stained glass vase sat nobly upon a trinket stall, Memory's eyes danced over the incongruous display of items scattered across its surface; forms both familiar and foreign sat stationary, staring back at her with inanimate eyes. They were exquisite, forged from minerals of all origins; some smooth and glossy with delicate swirls swimming throughout while the others were rough interpretations of the artist’s inspiration, abstractly adorning whimsical spatters of colour. One figure in particular caught her attention; a large, slinky fox-like physique stood gallantly upon a mountain peak with its head raised high and its tails looped and curled at the rear. Fascinated by its deep obsidian coloration, Memory felt herself willingly slipping in to a trance, where a glittering river swayed calmly under the moons watchful gaze and beyond its reach where the evergreens stood solitary in the looming shadow of the mountain, there were two sun-kissed wisps staring back at her.

A not-so-distant voice called all members of the troupe to attention, pulling Memory from the rapidly decaying vision of a far off land. Ears upright and alert, they swivelled toward the source of the voice and navigated her head to its location in the process. Elevated on the main stage, the Carousel's Artistic Director began ushering performers in the direction of a nearby lake where they would then bathe and embellish themselves accordingly before the attendees arrived. Following behind the sea of migrating soquili, Memory impassively observed the band of misfits as they bobbed up and down as though they were perched on waves as they journeyed across the malformed ground which briskly warped in to a gruff incline. Once at the bottom of the eminence the horde of carousel fled to their 'stations' wasting no time in tending to their habitual routines. Memory, unlike the rest of her overwrought family, trod to the lake's edge with measured steps. Stopping shy of the water’s edge her front, right hoof carelessly nicked the surface casting wavelets out in to the perennial pool; breaking the decided focus of two disconcerting, superlunary globes gawping back at her.

There was impending aggregated guilt accumulating inside her. Severing the aberrant entity, Memory rotated her head to spy the actions of her kin; laughter both near and far erupted from fragmented lips as they transformed the customarily mundane art of cleansing in to a jubilant experience. For an unprecedented period of time, the Lady Espeon regarded them with a muted smile as they continued to cavort; unmindful of prying eyes. A stone throw away from the embankment, soquili of flame had constructed a fire pit surrounded by walls of rope for soquili to hang their costumes over once they had been soaked. Rogue acts began recitals and reminded Memory that she too, needed to make a move if she were ever going to perform her own play on time. Submerging herself in the icy pool, she reemerged sodden; once finished with her bathing ritual and rinsing her threads, she exited the lake. Dripping from every possible angle and quivering from the bedevilling glacial grip she tried to manoeuvre through the dense clusters of hair that would inescapably entwine around her legs; reeling with every hoof-tangled stride taken as she progressed to the fire pit. Drying was a lengthy process and there was little to note during this time. Not wanting to linger too long while every moment wasted twilight inched closer and her window of opportunity to escape narrowed, she excused herself from the hub and started on her pilgrimage to scope the perfect locale to consult with the moon.

Phasing deep in to the neighbouring forest, Memory sought an open canopy where the moon's translucent face could be seen peering downcast over her children; through the watercolour spread, she coveted the dusk. Being alone with the moon was the only time Memory felt at ease, the only time she could breathe freely and release the demons she had been harbouring throughout the day. The moon was the only one who could listen without being critical of her concerns and she had learned quickly that despite the Carousel being the only family she had ever known, there was an emptiness in side her yearning for a secret homeland, for faces she couldn't remember and for a prince whose existence continued to elude her. Every night without fail Memory would communicate with the moon through song, hoping that somehow, somewhere, they would hear her plea. Clearing her throat, Memory permitted a trill to warm her voice before the initial song and once she was primed, she relinquished her soul to the moon. Tonight the song was especially mournful, telling a tale of a land far away and of sun-kissed wisps, enveloping the swath of night.



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