Whats the point of it all

Remember when we were kids? We were happy, free and full of adventure. Nothing stood in our way... remember when we laid under that old oak tree? We used to gaze up at the stars, dreaming of tommorow. We didnt know any better, we just did whatever we wanted. But i guess some things are better left unsaid. The one time i admitted that i loved you, i meant it with all my heart, but you laughed.

I laughed too, but i was sad on the inside. You just laughed because i said 'I love you.'

So i said my goodbyes and went home, tears brimming my eyes as i walked alongside my mother. She noticed this and placed a scaled hand on my shoulder. "Whats wrong iana.?" I looked away, hiding my face. "Its nothing mom..." no emotion except saddness in my voice. She pulled me up onto her shoulders. "Tell me sweetheart."

I rested my head on hers and frown, my eyes to the sky. "I just told aria i loved her, but she laughed..."  she pets my back with her tail as we walk towards home.

She walks towards our old shack in the forest. The door lost its luster years after i painted it and dont bother to do so again. The room is slowly caving in, ive told mom, but she wont do anything about it. It sags and creaks with the wind, yet defies nature itself by its mear existence. She places me on her shoulder and kneels down in from of the old shed.

"Hop off, iana." I do so, catching myself before i fall. She gets up and reaches into the tree nearest to the shack and grabs my hunting bow and quiver. "Here, this will take your mind off her for a while." I take the weapon and smile a little. "Thanks mom..." she nuzzles me tenderly and kisses my cheek. "Itll get better hun... i swear." She turned back to the house as i strapped the bow to my back with the quiver. The arrows i hid so only i could find them., reaching under the old oak log, i retreaved twelve, silver feathered arrows. Each one hand made by my dad. Still dont know who he is, but i know i will find him one day.

Once i gathered my things, such as a hunting bag and a tone, i took off from the ground. Knowing exactly where to look, and where to go, my mother taught me how to hunt and today. I needed to clear my head.

Aria's pov.

She left without another word. She just, left. Did i say something wrong? I shook my head and fly home, landing on my balcony with a soft creek of the floorboards. "Maybe... i should talk to her later." I looked towards the sunset, a smile coming to my face. The sun was halfway below the horizon. The sky turning dark purple, the many hues of orange and red... it was breathtaking. I loved sunstes. They remind me of my father. I dont see him much anymore, but i do remember what he looks like.

He was a tall, black pony. His mane, cant forget that, was a deep silver. It kinda looked like water, sometimes, and sometimes it looked liked it shined. His eyes where always gentle, a color of green i havent seen anywhere else, or ever for that matter. My dad... was a hero. He worked in the royal navy. He was a general, the commander of a fleet. Thats why i dont see him much, he was always away. Mama always worried he wouldnt come back. But he sent letters every month, letting her know he was and kicking.

Sunsets where my dads faverite time of day. We would sit on the porch, or he would and i would be on his lap. But we always sat on the porch to watch the sunset. I was little then, and dont really remember a lot of what my dad said, but i do remember him saying that... even though he wasnt there, all the time. That he would be, in my heart and in the sunsets.

I miss him... i miss him a lot. Trotting into my bedroom, i took of my necklace and set it on the dresser. The big one with the mirror, with all my photos of diferent... things ive taken of over the years. Each picture... means something to me. Without looking, i could tell you why i have a picture of my little sister under a tree. I was six when i got my first camera. It worked pretty well, but you had the lighting just right. I took that picture of my sister to always rember the fun we used to have. Shes grown up a little since then. She still likes to play, but she preffers her friends sometimes. Thats okay, it gives me time to paint.

Walking over to the closet, i open the door and pull out a large canvas. Ive had an idea of what to do with it, and now seems like a good time to do it. Setting the canvas on the bed, i pull out my brushes, paints, oils and pastels. Its old kit my grnadfather agave me, but it works really well. I set those by the bed and pull out some stained rags my mother gave me to clean up my messes. She supported my art, but not so much the mess i make when painting.

Smileing, i sat the canvas against the wall. I sat down and looked, for a long time, at the canvas. Id always do this. It helped me to focus on what i saw on the blank slate. Funny, normally... this is about the time my mother would call for me to help in the kitchen. But i dint have to worry about that now. She had friends over tonight, so, i have free time to start painting. Once i had the image in my head of what i wanted to do, i started to grab different colors of green.

Starting from the bottom, i started on the grass, using fine tipped brushes for it. Grass came easily to me. It was always so... intricate, but it was so fun to paint and draw it. It never looked the same on every hill or lawn. It always had a different look to it. The grasses on the hill would be a dark green, like alge from the pond outside. It stood straight up, or at a slight curve, depending on how you look at it. The grasses on the lawns where cut short and hardly moved at all.

This grass i paint now, was cuaght in a light breeze. It swayed towards the sun, bowing to the one who gave it warmth and food.