Samanayrs

First foal. First colt. A Sibyl, raised as a Tribal, combining the Samanayr and Lamanayr species. His small Song rejoiced at his birth.

He didn't really understand any of that, just as he didn't understand what it meant when his sire gifted him an egg or what it meant when the egg began to shake. He had been too young to know much of anything. All he knew at the time was that the cheepy, squawking, featherless thing was his and he would name her.

The colt named her Creel. That was the noise she made when she wanted food. He didn't understand the somewhat pained looked that flashed across his dam's face at his choice, but her affectionate nuzzle affirmed the decision.

He asked his mother many questions, as did all foals. Why could Mystic's magic play with the shadows? Why could she only see through the grasses? Would he ever have trinkets of his own? Would he fly someday like his sire? Would his paws ever grow into hooves or would they always be paws? How long before he could use his own magic? Would she name him because of the noises he made when he grew up? (She asked him if he wanted her to. He thought about it and said 'no'. She said she would keep that in mind and to be careful or he might become 'Sybil of the Endless Questions'. He didn't think that was a very good name.)

Most of the commonly recurring questions revolved around flight. She became impatient with some of them and told him that he would fly when his feathers were large and his wings were strong, and not a day before. He asked her if she saw that in the grasses. She said 'no', she saw it with her eyes. His sire said that maybe it was time to leave his mother alone for a little while.

He decided to see if he could make his wings stronger on his own. He and Creel wandered away from their current resting place, under the watchful eyes of the Song and under instructions to stay within sight.

His mother could see into the future sometimes. Did that mean he was sometimes-always in sight?

((M'kay...so this morning I wound up taking a lot of pH readings...and the meter is slow, so I was able to type something up in between measurements.))
Mystic was in a tree. Getting up there hadn't been easy, but she'd done it. The little foal was so proud of herself. This morning she had decided that the Song currently watching her just...wasn't working out for her anymore and so she had slipped away again. No doubt she would be scolded. Even though she had told them she was leaving this time so they wouldn't worry about her when they found her gone. But they had been so boring! She just couldn't stay... It was so unfair that just because she couldn't remember who her real parents were that she was expected to just accept whoever wanted to take her in as her new parents. She wanted some say in that!

They had seemed shocked this morning when she'd said she was leaving, but they hadn't moved to stop her, which she'd sort of expected them to do. That had been a nice surprise. And now...she was on her own. That was sort of scary, but also fun. No one was telling her not to poke her nose in there, or go follow that. No one had tried to stop her climbing the tree, even when she'd fallen down and bruised her hip. She had gotten right back up and resumed her attempts. And now she was in the tree where birds sat! Admitedly, they had all flown away shortly after she had started climbing, but maybe they would come back now.

The little filly was balanced precariously on a branch, wiggling with eagerness to see the birds return, when something moving down on the ground caught her eye. Her triple hooves twitched against the bark in excitement as she found the source of the motion. It was another foal! Like her! Only...they had three mystic strands...and a bird!

Whistling in excitement the filly launched herself from the tree without thought. "Hi-hi-hi-uh-oh..." Belatedly the filly realized she had no idea how to land. Her tail feathers fanned out and she spread the tiny wings on her front legs in an attempt to slow and stabilize her fall, but it was still more of an uncontrolled plummet than anything. A cool breeze sprang up at the last minute, filling the tiny wings just enough to tilt her up and let her crash feet first into the ground. Unbalanced and startled she tipped up and over, landing with a final thud on her back, blinking up at the sky.

Rolling over onto her side she looked over her shoulder at the colt. "Um...hi...I like youyr biyrd?"

((Work is nuckin' futs right now, but I typatypa on lunch break. <3))

Where could the two of them go to practice with their wings? They were a nomadic Song, as were most Tribals, so the young colt didn't know the area at all. The tall grass caught a slow breeze beautifully, but he was far too young to be able to appreciate that. All he wanted was to be up in the air with the breeze!

Clambering up onto a small mound, probably the dirt flung by some burrowing creature, he gazed ahead into the distance. There was only one thing on the horizon to catch his eye in the direction away from his family. What was it? Resolving to find out, he shuffled his way back down and set off with Creel hopping along beside him.

As he moved closer, he saw it get bigger. A tree! He knew about trees. He had seen them before, briefly. Birds liked trees. Too bad his little chick was too young to get up there. Too bad he couldn't fly her up either.

Too busy investigating the bottom of the tree for roots to climb, he didn't notice the other foal until she suddenly made noise. What?! His first thought, watching her descent, was that she was a bird.

Who couldn't fly. And looked more like him than his companion. Oh. Not a bird, then. He felt kind of silly.

"You almost flew," he commented, watching her curiously. "Ayre you huyrt? That looked like it would huyrt. You almost flew, though. Good tyry. Youyr wings must not be styrong enough yet." Stating the obvious seemed like a good plan.

Her compliment made him blink for a second before he glanced down at the little feathery puffball next to him. "Oh! Thanks. Heyr name is Cyreel. Say hello, Cyreel."

She stared at him. He stared back. Eventually, he nudged her with a clawed toe.

She chirped. He grinned and turned back to the filly. "Theyre! She said hello. We've neveyr met anotheyr foal befoyre. I didn't know theyre weyre any ayround heyre. I met two of the otheyr Songs in the ayrea and none of them had anyone my size."

((And now lunch and I type-type-type again.))

"Oh. I did? I wasn't tyrying to fly, I just wanted to get down and say hi as fast as I could. But I came down fasteyr than I went up. And I went bump. Again." Rolling back onto her back she twisted and half bucked, trying to see her feet. "Feets don't huyrt so much to land on as sides do though. Hoovsies ayre tough!" She proudly wiggled her triple hooves, admiring their sturdy build for a moment, then paused. "Back doesn't like me landing on it eitheyr," she announced, suddenly feeling pebbles digging their way into her hide.

Flopping back onto her side she scooted around in a circle until she was facing the young Sibyl, ignoring the twinge in her left hind leg where she'd twisted it in landing, just in time to see him nudge his bird. Her eyes went wide in amazement. "She talks to you," the little Mystic breathed in awe. "Hello little biyrdie biyrd. Weyre you looking foyr moyre fyriends? Can I be fyriends with you and youyr Mystic? Will you talk to me too?"

Looking around for a moment as though she could actually see through the thick grasses around them, the filly's eyes began to water in sympathy. "All alone? Eveyryone needs a fyriend. I don't have one eitheyr. No one with foals of theiyr own wanted to let me stay with them. Please say I can be fyriends with you! Please?" Her feathery tail twitched back and forth hopefully as she stared up at the other foal with big pleading eyes. "Please?"

((And yes, I meant to have her call him a Mystic. She's never heard of Sibyls and thinks that three strands is just like three hooves; just one more than most have and a really neat thing.))

"Oh. Well. That was a yreally good tyry for not tyrying, then. You'yre pyrobably gonna have some soyrt of natuyral gift or something when you get oldeyr. You did a good job not huyrting anything and you fell fyrom pyretty high." That out of the way, the colt took a moment to admire her hooves. Wow, she probably had really good balance too. "They're like landing stands," he agreed.

She liked moving a lot, didn't she? Still, she was saying nice things to Creel and just being friendly in general. Except she made a mistake and he looked at her funny for a second before noticing the tufts tucked right behind her ears.

Two plus two equals...

"Oh. Oh! So... you'yre a Mystic? That makes sense then. We have a Mystic in ouyr tyribe. I'm not, though. I don't have any elemental poweyrs and I neveyr will... soyrt of. Haven't you eveyr seen a Sibyl? That's like my dam. She tells the futuyre in the gyrasses and the byreeze. Someday I will too. But Mystic, she contyrols the shadows. Ayre you a shadow Mystic too?"

He pawed at the ground for a minute, tiny claws making grooved tracks in the dry earth. He'd met one other Mystic besides the one in his Song, once. She was a fire Mystic and his mother hadn't much liked her so they stayed away from her. But this filly wasn't the color of fire. At least, he didn't think so. Weren't fire Mystics supposed to be red? Or was that Elementals? Or both?

Her hopeful question surprised him. Then... well, then it delighted him! He stamped both front legs on the ground and fluffed out his small wings. "What, yreally? Of couyrse! We just met! You'yre not going anywheyre at fiyrst, ayre you? Because you shouldn't. Theyre ayre tons of things we can do ayround here." Or at least, there would be with someone to do them with. "Cyreel and I would love to have somebody else to play with!"

The little Mystic blinked slowly at her new friend as he babbled happily about flying, seizing on the last bit as something she could answer. Flying didn't interest her much as yet; there was too much on the ground to examine, even if the sky was lovely. Looking down at her feet she chirped inquisitively. "They climb good. No one with two hoofsies eveyr came up afteyre me so well as I went up." The filly beamed happily at the thought, then twisted position, trying to find a comfortable place to hold her leg so it wouldn't ache.

When she looked back at the young colt though he was staring at her oddly. Tilting her head to one side she blinked at him, then stuck her tounge out, just in case she was supposed to make faces back. Her tounge went back in and her ears flicked up curiously as he corrected her on his species. For a moment she went cross eyed as she tried to look at her own stubby little strands.

"Not a Mystic? Extyra hooves don't make me a diffeyrent Sam...why do extyra styrands make you one? No magic? But..." She tilted her head, little mind spinning in confusion. Everyone had known her as a Mystic because of her strands and now he was telling her that they didn't always mean the same thing. "No one eveyr told me about...S-siiii-sib... what you said. But...that sounds like futuyre magic. She just has a funny element, doesn't she? Why ayre you something else?"

The filly rubbed her nose with one foot, streaking dust across her muzzle. "I don't know shadows, no one told me what I do, they just say I'm a Mystic and have magic because I have styrands. Shadows ayre spooky. You have a spooky Song?"

Her mind was too awhirl with what the little Sibyl had told her to notice at first his dawning delight at her request to be friends with Creel and him. Only when it exploded out of him in joyful words did she look up, blinking. Then joy lit up her face as well and she lunged to her feet, left rear standing only on tip-toes as she danced in place. "I'm going wheyre you're going! You know ayround heyre? All the best fun places? You'll be fyriends! I'll be a good fyriend!" Her sore leg was begining to bother her, but she was determined not to let it interfere with exploring with her new friend.

((Would you mind if, when this nears a closing point, I brought Wink around? I'm thinking that she might make a good foster parent for this little gal, and it makes sense that she might be out near other Tribals to pay a visit and be with others of her 'kind' for a while.))

Huh, why was she making funny faces at him? That was kinda odd. It went fast, though, so fast he only noticed it for a second or two. "We actually call them a cyrown when theyre's thyree of them, not styrands. They just kind of look like the same thing because they both have poweyrs I guess. Mystic can do things we can't."

Shadows? Spooky? Why would shadows be spooky? There were always shadows around somewhere except when the sun was highest! There were just more of them at night. He puzzled over that for a little too long and eventually just shrugged it off as something silly. But if she didn't know shadows, then what kind of Mystic was she?

A fun one! He shook himself, bounced a little in place, and had to avoid Creel as she darted underfoot when Mystic scared her. That was a near-miss though.

"I know ayround heyre! We tyravel, but neveyr too fayr yet. They say they don't want to go too fayr until I'm a little oldeyr. Theyre's not... well, theyre will be moyre to do now with help! Places don't stayrt out fun. They tuyrn into fun if you want them to! And anotheyr fyriend would make that a lot betteyr! We could pyretend to call elements or pyractice the diffeyrent song."

((Sorry for both the delay and the short. My brain's a little fried. xD But yes, that sounds really great! I'd love for Wink to appear. It probably won't go on too long. *grin*))

Sibyls still didn't make sense to her; lots of Sams could do things that others couldn't but that didn't make them a new species. And they sure sounded like magic to her. He'd even admited they had powers. Maybe they were like...a special kind of Mystic. But that wasn't important. She was sure that she would find out if he was just teasing her or not sooner or later. Eventually the bossy old Sams would catch up with her and send her to a new home again. Maybe this time she'd stay long enough to have them answer a few questions first before they got too boring. Right now though there was more important stuff to do than sit and grow all musty-dusty thinking!

As she stopped jigging in place the little Mystic noticed that Creel had ducked under her new friend. Lowering her head to the ground she peered under him at the young bird. "Why'd she go undeyr theyre? Is she playing hide seek? That's not the best hidey spot. I bet I can find a betteyr one." Lifting her head she looked around, then shook her stubby feather tail at a bunch of rocks scattered and heaped off in the distance. "I bet theyre's lots of hidey caves in those! I bet we could make that a fun place!"

Tilting her head at Sibyl she considered his suggestions. Call elements? That sounded better than the other choice. Her ears unconciously flattened back at the mention of the traditional Songs. She hadn't stayed anywhere long enough to learn them yet and didn't want to admit it to her new friend. He clearly knew them, and she didn't like admiting to being ignorant. Whistling to herself, she didn't notice the slight breeze stir up and begin to swirl around her, tugging at her strands and ruffling the feathers of her tail, slowly spreading its spirals wider to tug at Sibyl's mane as well.

((I will bring her in after a bit longer then! I know when I got her Eirnae and I were thinking that her Mystic and Wink would be friends, that gives Wink an extra reason to be around. Think the foals will go back to the Song and she can be there or would it make more sense for the Song to have asked Wink to help look for their strayed foal, or even just have her find them without having spoken to the Song at all?))