Just another clip from my roleplayer character (horse) Tatiana. :)
~
What was it?
Tatiana stood, stiff with curiosity, as she took in her opponent at eye-level.
A huge flat sign, human doings, no doubt, was perched against a crooked, naked tree along the side of her chosen trail for the day. Painted white, with loopy black and red symbols, she gawked at it, straining to make since of it. Obviously, the primitive sketches meant something, but what?
Little did she know, the track of wiry pasture-land she'd been traveling on since last dawn, had been put up for sale by a group of rough-whiskered male humans, wearing their tattered John Deer caps; it had sold, rather quickly---because people where looking for land now, knowing that winter was over, and it was time to sow seeds of new life again.
The land was going to be tilled, and the words of the sign went as follows:
SOLD
Big, capital letters splashed on in barn-red paint, covering the smaller type in black, stating things like how many acres went with the land, the owner's name, and how to contact him.
Tatiana was pretty bemused by it, her dark eyes drinking in the strange writing, the big neon-red letters reflecting backwards off the black, glossy globes of her eyes. Well above her, the sky rather suddenly turned a slate-gray color as the rainclouds moved in, stumbling and assembling dumbly in the sky.
Great, obese clouds.
Dark, and plump, bumping into each-other, and rolling away, apologizing: finding room across the dull-painted canvas.
By the time the rain had begun to fall, in a cold, sleek spring-shower, Tatiana had decided to move on, leaving the strange sign behind in a clout of mud, and blurry mist.
But as she left the rubbled hill behind, and the tree-post, she vowed that one day she would understand those symbols. She would hold the words in her eyes like the clouds, and wring them out like the rain.
~
Tatiana was good at finding something to look at, even under the most dreary circumstances.
By nightfall, most of the clouds had parted, and the steady stream of rain slowed to a fluid leak, that sprung at times, then stopped suddenly, as if blocked by a invisible hand.
The moon came out soon after, a beaming, milk-silver orb, glistening through the faint fog. The color was hypnotic, when she stared at it, straight into it, she felt like she could see further then was even possible---into deep space, drowning in that priceless shade of brilliant, polished silver.
Tatiana loved colors. She had a couple favorites, but she always tried to enjoy—and did—other colors; a whole spectrum. Billions of flavors, shades, and hues; colors so full of juice and taste, she could suck on them for hours; hazy, smoky taints that gave the world a otherworldly sense of nature that she could get lost in. Darkness...light.
Part of the reason she loved the nighttime so much was because it seemed to be a very pure, raw time. The contrasts between silver, and black were so obvious, and addicting.
Midnight, and just before it, late after---until dawn, though dusk, she could find the colors---hunt them out, seek them, drink them in to parch her thirst for variety---her curiosity, and wonder.
As she wandered through the shadows, she fed off the colors, the smells, and the sounds of the darkness; sleeping life, and life that had never been more fulfilled---the wind whispered quiet rumors, and the crooning nighthawk told her a story.
