Racing mule at the Humboldt County Fair
The innocent and the broken down
*Melvin wonders for a moment, about who exactly was Galax and how his young companion had managed to converse with him without being noticed. Discussed his own mule-ish self, to boot. But he chalked it up to Guardian magic and followed quietly with a nod. Galax…he mused, must be a giver of dreams, or the giver of dreams, however it works.He could feel the valley settling down to sleep; the murmurs of his fellow creatures of wing, paw, and fin. His own hooves tread softly through the lush grasses as he flickered long ears in silent greeting to a mother swan and dark memories melted to the back of his mind. For the moment he was here, not there, and here everything was as it should be. He finds himself refusing the urge to frolic among the fireflies. A colt-ish urge, really, he tells himself but still he tosses his mane and watches the little bugs flicker with bright eyes. *
*The sound and accompanying vibrations stop the mule in his tracks. He tilts his head and swivels his ears, trying to locate the strange noise. There was no cat in existence large enough to create this, though admittedly it seemed similar somehow.* Your…your sire? *He glances about, unsure.” It is your sire that rumbles the ground? He is like you…right?
…Sire? *For a split second, Neverlor glances back at the mule, confused, but then grins as it dawns on him* Ah, my eld! :D Yeah, that’s him. And yeah, he’s like me! *sighs* …Almost. I think I’ll never grow as big… But then how he’d lift me above the valley?
*A tall hill now can be seen behind the trees - green with lush grass; large rocks covered in moss and some mysterious swirls laying around it; and as the two friends walk up closer, Neverlor points at the cave in the side of the hill… the cave that didn’t appear to be there a few minutes ago. Maybe it was open only to the guardians and to those they trust?
The purring coming from the depts of the cave grows even louder. Neverlor stops at the pitch dark entrance and gestures Melvin to follow him.*
That’s it! We’re home. C’mon, don’t just stop there! :) You promised me to not be afraid, didn’t you?
*Melvin follows in halting steps* Over the valley? Neverlor…how…how big is… *He trails off at the swirling colors upon the hill, a sight unlike anything he had come across. Tendrils of something, magic perhaps, ghost over his coat causing him to shiver. The mule quickens his pace once more, not wanting to be left behind in such a place; a place clearly not meant for the likes of himself. Then, with a blink he found the opening yawning before him and he stopped in his tracks. Rumbling, the rumbling, echos from the darkness. *
*Darkness…Equines do not prance willingly into dark holes filled with the unknown, they often avoid puddles, actually, all in the name of safety. Instincts, you see. The powerful instincts of a prey animal. Melvin considered informing his small friend of this but the reminder of his promise stopped him. He had promised, and he knew the results of breaking a promise. He was not his master, and he would be true to his word. *
I did, didn’t I? *He sighed and straightened up, joining Neverlor and pressing his muzzle to the young one’s side as a guide in the dark. Fearless, he was not, but brave he could be.* Lead on, then! *Melvin followed his companion into the unknown.*
The innocent and the broken down
Well, she would know about such things I suppose. That explains why the bar-ba-loots buried them back…there…*The mule twitches his ears and sniffs the air, gazing upward and taking in the darkening sky. He breathes deep, enjoying the cooling breeze that tousles his fluffy mane. It’s nice to just enjoy the moment, let time get away from him, not be on alert for danger, or weather, or food.*
It is, isn’t it? I’d prefer shelter, but wherever you usually sleep will be more than fine.
Come on then! :D We’ll sleep at the lair. Then maybe Great-Grandpa Galax will bring you some good dreams about your Master after he sees you… here. ‘Cause in that place he can’t see a thing through the smog, he says. Let’s go?.. :)
*It isn’t quite dark yet as they both walk through the valley, watching Neverlor’s neighbors getting ready for sleep. Funny, squeaky calls can be heard around them ever so often - must be Bar-ba-loot moms calling their cubs home. An occasional rustle of the golden feathers comes from the fuzzy tree tops - probably Swomee-Swans gathering their cygnets under wings. Even the river seems to flow slower, lazier, as if understanding that now it’s time to cradle singing fish on its waves.
A firefly, first in this evening, lands onto Neverlor’s shoulder; the little guardian laughs and jokingly sits the bug on Melvin’s muzzle, where it glows like a tiny lantern for a while - only to fly away as the mule is just about to snort. But not for long - soon, the whole forest is full of these tiny lanterns.
…The closer the two friends get to where Lorax’s lair must be, the more audible becomes a strange, low, vibratling sound, seeming to come from underground. To Melvin (as the one who grew on the farm and knows the animals that live on it) it probably resembles a purr of some giant cat. But the forest guardian doesn’t look scared one bit…*
Almost there! :) Hear that? Dad again purrs in his sleep.
*Melvin wonders for a moment, about who exactly was Galax and how his young companion had managed to converse with him without being noticed. Discussed his own mule-ish self, to boot. But he chalked it up to Guardian magic and followed quietly with a nod. Galax…he mused, must be a giver of dreams, or the giver of dreams, however it works.
He could feel the valley settling down to sleep; the murmurs of his fellow creatures of wing, paw, and fin. His own hooves tread softly through the lush grasses as he flickered long ears in silent greeting to a mother swan and dark memories melted to the back of his mind. For the moment he was here, not there, and here everything was as it should be. He finds himself refusing the urge to frolic among the fireflies. A colt-ish urge, really, he tells himself but still he tosses his mane and watches the little bugs flicker with bright eyes. *
*The sound and accompanying vibrations stop the mule in his tracks. He tilts his head and swivels his ears, trying to locate the strange noise. There was no cat in existence large enough to create this, though admittedly it seemed similar somehow.* Your…your sire? *He glances about, unsure.” It is your sire that rumbles the ground? He is like you…right?
((It’s already been a long ass f*cking morning dealing with my horse’s post-surgery needs and then he freaking escaped his stall when he’s supposed to be on stall rest and went galloping off into the freaking muddy woods and I’m so lucky he didn’t bust any stitches just a tiny bit of bleeding so he got a new bandage and things should be ok I hope I’m just still really anxious but now I get home and GHOST IS F**CKING DEAD and I think something’s going to happen to Eternal so I’m just going to go get ready for work, ok? Less sh*t happens in the SPN fandom and that’s saying a lot, trust me. I’m sorry I just needed to rant for a moment.))
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