Post by jem on Dec 12, 2011 18:20:42 GMT -8
Playing pretend was quite an easy thing to do, Artemis thought to herself, when one did it on a daily basis. To disguise what one didn’t want others to see, to wear a mask that effectively fooled the world. She worried that hers would be all too easily shattered by a word, even a thought, and yet it had held true thus far. Strength was admittedly not something she had in spades, her gentle composure not something that came naturally to her. It was a façade easily kept now, however, and a charade that she now maintained. And in truth, she was typically calm. It was unnatural to find her in any other state. But there would come a time, a day that was especially taxing, and she would wonder how, exactly, she was meant to keep it together, how she was to present a calm face to the world, be an image of strength. She still felt young, was still like a child in so many ways. Sheltered, kept away from the cruel hand of death and suffering. She hadn’t the slightest idea of how to deal with it. She was prone to smiling, to offering words of kindness, of comfort, and it seemed to work. How? She was not entirely sure and knew full well that were it her being comforted, it would not be nearly so effective.
Today, however, she worried little about any of that, about any of the problems she might have had, about the herds, about the fact that she was in a position that required utmost responsibility. Right now, she was simply Artemis. Through the trees she wove, her hooves barely touching the ground as she moved, the motion seemingly effortless as she wound herself around the trees, close enough to touch, and yet, not touching. Her breathing remained effortless, despite the pace, as she strove to approach the river, a place of comfort to her. Why, she was not sure. She supposed it might have been the sound of the water as it lapped against the rocks, attempting to escape its confines….or maybe it was the silken feel of it as it caressed her muzzle when she drank. Regardless, Erdee was chosen as her destination when Artemis wanted to be alone with her thoughts.
The water seemed higher today, likely courtesy of the melted snow from the winter. Thus, Artemis tread cautiously, not venturing too terribly close to the rocks, instead staying in the safety of the trees as she gazed at the river, emerald eyes glazing over as she sought to find calm, to find tranquility. Focus shifted from her outward surroundings to her own being, to the steady in and out of her stomach, the feel of air as it whistled through her nostrils. The way the ground sank beneath each hoof as she shifted where she stood. Centering herself, she found, kept panic at bay and helped her remain put together.
The calm, however, was not meant to remain, as the snapping of a branch followed by the distinct patter of hooves immediately roused her from her thoughts. Her head jerked up a touch as she delicately turned it, ears swiveling about as she tried to ascertain where, precisely, the sound had come from, no fear on her face, but rather curiosity. She stood where she was for a moment, conflict as to what she ought to do apparent in her face before she calmly turned around to face the wooded area behind her. Address the intruder? Or let them show themselves? It was quite the conundrum. She moved a step forward, the movement inaudible as she narrowed her eyes, scanning the trees, unable to catch a glimpse of whomever it was that shared the space with her.
The urge to simply turn back to what she was doing was great, and she very nearly did, shifting to return her attention to the river and, subsequently, to centering herself again. The snap of a branch, once more, caught her attention and in an uncharacteristically ungraceful move, she whirled around. ”Who’s there?” she asked, surprisingly forcefully, ”I assure you, there’s no reason to hide.” The strength of her words belied the encroaching unease she now felt, but she forced herself to remain steady, to remain calm, convincing herself that it might very well have been nothing more than a bird landing that had caused the sound.
Today, however, she worried little about any of that, about any of the problems she might have had, about the herds, about the fact that she was in a position that required utmost responsibility. Right now, she was simply Artemis. Through the trees she wove, her hooves barely touching the ground as she moved, the motion seemingly effortless as she wound herself around the trees, close enough to touch, and yet, not touching. Her breathing remained effortless, despite the pace, as she strove to approach the river, a place of comfort to her. Why, she was not sure. She supposed it might have been the sound of the water as it lapped against the rocks, attempting to escape its confines….or maybe it was the silken feel of it as it caressed her muzzle when she drank. Regardless, Erdee was chosen as her destination when Artemis wanted to be alone with her thoughts.
The water seemed higher today, likely courtesy of the melted snow from the winter. Thus, Artemis tread cautiously, not venturing too terribly close to the rocks, instead staying in the safety of the trees as she gazed at the river, emerald eyes glazing over as she sought to find calm, to find tranquility. Focus shifted from her outward surroundings to her own being, to the steady in and out of her stomach, the feel of air as it whistled through her nostrils. The way the ground sank beneath each hoof as she shifted where she stood. Centering herself, she found, kept panic at bay and helped her remain put together.
The calm, however, was not meant to remain, as the snapping of a branch followed by the distinct patter of hooves immediately roused her from her thoughts. Her head jerked up a touch as she delicately turned it, ears swiveling about as she tried to ascertain where, precisely, the sound had come from, no fear on her face, but rather curiosity. She stood where she was for a moment, conflict as to what she ought to do apparent in her face before she calmly turned around to face the wooded area behind her. Address the intruder? Or let them show themselves? It was quite the conundrum. She moved a step forward, the movement inaudible as she narrowed her eyes, scanning the trees, unable to catch a glimpse of whomever it was that shared the space with her.
The urge to simply turn back to what she was doing was great, and she very nearly did, shifting to return her attention to the river and, subsequently, to centering herself again. The snap of a branch, once more, caught her attention and in an uncharacteristically ungraceful move, she whirled around. ”Who’s there?” she asked, surprisingly forcefully, ”I assure you, there’s no reason to hide.” The strength of her words belied the encroaching unease she now felt, but she forced herself to remain steady, to remain calm, convincing herself that it might very well have been nothing more than a bird landing that had caused the sound.