Drabble Request 2 (The Last Unicorn/Princess Tutu)
fear no shadow; feel no shame
"Are you alright? You-you're missing-" The small blur of yellow feathers jumping up and down focuses in the fathomless eyes that open. The little flailing wings come up to cover a tiny orange beak, like a child whispering, almost embarrassed for pointing something out where anyone would hear. "Your heart is-"
The unicorn shook her head, the movement flicking her long sea foam mane of curls back and forth, before she laid her head back down on the grass. In her eyes is the depth of a forest, a forest she returns to now through the same season and the endless roads she came from it through. And through those trees and creatures in those purple-blue eyes is a face that almost forms.
That cannot be fully remembered and will never be forgotten.
Duck crept closer, almost touching the her only to draw back. "I could help you! Or, I mean, I could have when I was--"
"No," The Unicorn said, with uncertain serenity. Her voice the stream of spring breezes and the softness of fresh fallen snow. The wonder of new green leaves and the emptiness after the great maelstroms. "I would not forget, little one. I have done what was needed, and I would not forget what I have learned or become along the way."
The companionship of friends -- the truth of love and heroes, of miracles earned in the blood and tears, of heroes and damsels and the prices of slaying dragons and winning wars.
She leaned her head forward, to nuzzle the soft downy duckling with a tender innocence and boundless knowing inherent little elsewhere in creation. ""No more, I think, than you would forget now either?"
Blinking wide blue eyes at her story playing out in flashes before her eyes, of a once girl who lived to help others live and love, Duck tightly hugged the nose of the unicorn back. "No. No, I will never forget."
"Are you alright? You-you're missing-" The small blur of yellow feathers jumping up and down focuses in the fathomless eyes that open. The little flailing wings come up to cover a tiny orange beak, like a child whispering, almost embarrassed for pointing something out where anyone would hear. "Your heart is-"
The unicorn shook her head, the movement flicking her long sea foam mane of curls back and forth, before she laid her head back down on the grass. In her eyes is the depth of a forest, a forest she returns to now through the same season and the endless roads she came from it through. And through those trees and creatures in those purple-blue eyes is a face that almost forms.
That cannot be fully remembered and will never be forgotten.
Duck crept closer, almost touching the her only to draw back. "I could help you! Or, I mean, I could have when I was--"
"No," The Unicorn said, with uncertain serenity. Her voice the stream of spring breezes and the softness of fresh fallen snow. The wonder of new green leaves and the emptiness after the great maelstroms. "I would not forget, little one. I have done what was needed, and I would not forget what I have learned or become along the way."
The companionship of friends -- the truth of love and heroes, of miracles earned in the blood and tears, of heroes and damsels and the prices of slaying dragons and winning wars.
She leaned her head forward, to nuzzle the soft downy duckling with a tender innocence and boundless knowing inherent little elsewhere in creation. ""No more, I think, than you would forget now either?"
Blinking wide blue eyes at her story playing out in flashes before her eyes, of a once girl who lived to help others live and love, Duck tightly hugged the nose of the unicorn back. "No. No, I will never forget."