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Misery hits the pony’s face like a whip. A sharp snap of reality this is keeping his mind at bay, while the hearth slowly dries out. His personal drought, created by locking out and being locked out by people. Solitude in its strongest form. So the pony walks through the market districts, villages, taverns and other crowd filled locations. Individuals passing through the equines life and not even staying for a week. Or more than two days.
With heavy steps the pony chooses to leave it behind, the civilisation. A sword by the side if his hips, no scabbard, blade exposed to reflect and letting the blade of steel shimmer bright in the light. As he would be ready to strike immediately, maybe even impressing someone with it. A scaled armour is covering the body. Giving him the feeling of protection. Not fights, but of the battles happening inside. The everyday struggle to stand up, to eat and taking a bath. To continue. To live.
Just as the pony leaves the city and nature is getting present with its wooden walls of crooked pillars the heavy and sad-tired steps of the hooved one comes to a stop. A cheerful, soft and cheeky voice emerges from the side >>I like your scales. << Underlined with a chuckle and a tone that the horse would consider as a purr. Though it isn’t fitting. A feline tone won’t be made by the animal that is getting into his sight. Waves of ice-blue lights softly emitting from the semi see-through fox, sitting on a stone at the edge of nature. A moment of hesitation passes before the equine approaches and tells his name to the astral aspect. At the start the horse is making the typical short sentences he is used to: Weather, some hobbies and other minor smalltalk. But soon he realises that the fox with the snowflake on his back is actually keeping up the conversation. Showing interest in it, asking more, answering even longer and leading into a quickly passing day. Of course they will need to sleep. Saying farewell and parting ways. On the next day the horse decides to return to the place, just out of curiosity and a spark of hope settled inside the horse to see the fox again. Truly, the same fox is again there, both smiling slightly as they are seeing each other.
Both are starting to walk around, sharing words and stories, not realising that they are currently creating their own one.
After a few more days it turns into a routine. Walking and talking. The horse slower that the quick fox, which is as swiftly as his cheerful and cheeky attitude. But the equine s dragged down by the weight of his sword and armour. So the fox asks why the pony is always dragging his whole equipment with him. With that very moment their future meetups are getting changed. Sharing hopes and dreams, even a secret or two. With that the equine makes himself emotionally vulnerable to the fox, but what he gets is support, good advice and a sentence that will follow his every day, burned into his mind >> It is ok to cry <<, starts the astral advisor >> Emotions are having their reason, some pleasant, some not. But show them, only then you’ll be able to get help. << With that the fox is creating small and shining orbs of light wherever he goes. A trail to follow whenever the horse needs help or an open ear.
This little gesture is a meaningful gift for the pony; one he thankfully accepts and often seeks out the present of the fox. Sharing tears, laughter, pain and even getting introduced to some friends of the astral forest dweller.
Time passes, one winter after another flies by, a time where both are facing their lives. Moments where the pony can change and did. The snow stopped falling, world filled with more colours, shades that the horse never really made out. Orbs of light leading over the with white blanked covered path until he reaches a familiar form. The equine stops and slightly lifts his right hand, to create a similar blue orb on his own >>Hayho, friend. <<, speaks the hooved one softly with a subtle grin on his lips, looking down to his friend. He wears no armour nor a sword. Just clothes and a staff to show he is open, using his personality and not the equipment and skills of war anymore.
No other sentences are getting shared, as there is no need to. Words do not always need to be spoken out loud. This time it is visible that the pony had grown into a version of himself that he personally likes the most.
But what the fox doesn’t know is the promise the equine made to himself: Knowing that in the past he whined often, had a pessimistic point of view on almost everything and surely challenged the patience of the fox with always complaining over many things. So he wants to pay it back, by sharing hope, advice, laughter and cheeky answers. Simply spreading joy.
In the past the horse knew that every snowflake is unique and special.
But he would never have imagined it that one can change his life. To the better.A lovely artwork done by
I had no idea on how this artwork will turn out, or better said what is getting included. The morning after I stood up I had an idea for a story, which you can see here.
Pony is me
The astral fox is my, more or less volunteeringly added, friend
Category Artwork (Digital) / General Furry Art
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 2283 x 1614px
File Size 4.2 MB
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