Kétsarkú Mozgalom

________________________________________one

It had been yet another exceedingly brisk day. The perpetual twilight that seemed to hang over.. over whatever month this was, was like a veil. A low and sickly veil which cast the town, the forest, the barren rock fields nearby under a slate gray sky. They’re all pretty things, the frail unicorn thought idly. She couldn’t think of anything substantially more to put to it. She had to press forward.

Twilight trotted anxiously along the winding muddy path. It led away from the gloomy town and past on through the wood. Her saddlebags chaffed her thighs and back. They were so heavy. She couldn’t remember why it had to be so heavy. She couldn’t remember much of anything these days. When she was at the library.. earlier.. she.. all she could recall was that loathsome little dragon going on and on about nothing. Or something. All he did was complain. Who let him work there? She did remember glaring at him a lot.

Twilight did not like him.

Gray, crooked trees loomed over the unicorn, over the narrow path before her and she swallowed hard, hastening her pace while chasing away the prickling feelings of cold uncertainty. It had rained a few hours ago; it seemed so peaceful then. Even now, Twilight could not help but to sigh and dawdle, taking in the coolness of the evening air, but something drew her deeper into these woods. Something wild and confusing was tugging at her heart.

The unicorn darted into the wet brush, ears flattened back against the cacophonous cawing of the blackbirds. Her svelte figure seemed to catch on every little branch and burr, only further mussing up the dingy lavender fur of her coat. It seems Twilight has not been herself lately. The others, her.. friends they so empathetically called themselves - they called it amnesia or something akin to that. She did not know what that meant. She thought it had something do with a sickness, but she did not feel physically ill. It was something else. The unicorn shook those feelings off again.

Twilight shuddered for it was growing awfully colder; her fur bristled as she came along to a small line of trees. This was it. This was where she had meant to come.

The unicorn stood silently, studying the area intently, her hooves sinking in the cool muck. She wasn’t sure of what to make of this. She felt only this great gnawing feeling of confusion. Her nose wrinkled at this.

Twilight felt her soul wilting inside of her.

The unicorn magicked her saddlebags off and set them aside, mechanically withdrawing a collapsible tripod and rather weighty camera.

The words left her, mechanical and dry, “I used to understand happy. I know I used to be happy. I was really happy.”

Twilight set up the tripod and the camera with her magick, pointing it towards the trees, centering in upon the what appeared to be an apex.

“I’m unhappy now and I can’t remember what’s it’s like to be happy.”

Twilight chewed her lip slowly, pulling out another item from her saddlebags. It was heavy and dark, like midnight. It was a dingy dress. She thought it looked very lovely, but she wasn't quite sure what it was for.

“I only remember…,” she pulled the dress on and let her long mane down. The fabric hugged her body well, as if it was made for her. It was so cold. Tears formed in her eyes.

“I don’t remember.”

This was what the unicorn came here to do, she supposed. Perhaps she had thought it would give her some sort of clarity. Her ears jerked back to the deeper part of the woods behind her. It made her flesh crawl. How stupid all of this was.

How meager and worthless it seemed. She wanted to cry but the power to do so evaded her entirely. What was she doing way out here, in the middle of nowhere? What was she supposed to be doing?

In a brief lucid moment, she nosed a button on the side of the camera, and then scampered up in front of the tree.  After a bright flash, the camera clicked and whirred out a picture.

She grabbed the picture with her magick and crammed it into her saddlebag.

She was so lost.

“I remember being happy, ” the words left her dryly, “only in comparison to not being happy which is what I am now.”

She slid out of her dress slowly, and packed it into her saddlebag. It seemed.. necessary. Sentimental. The camera could stay.

“I remember being happier here,” the unicorn muttered softly. Her breath came out in gentle breaths. It dissipated into the cool air.

She turned and left. The camera stood stock still, as she crunched her way along back towards the dirt path.

“I remember being sad here.”