The Academy: And their wilting is a cry

All because of you,
I haven't slept in so long;
When I do I dream,
Of drowning in the ocean,
Longing for the shore,
Where I can lay my head down;
I'll follow your voice,
All you have to do is shout it out!

Making sense of what one doesn't understand, however, is not always the path that leads one to success or victory. No, moreorless, the true factor in becoming successful is to learn the difference between wanting to know, and needing. In this, Corpus Corvidae shall excel in her chosen Class, for many only decide upon Scholarship for the unnatural wisdom and significant intelligence- not to mention secrets- we may come across. On the contrary, the Crow has an advantage that may help her become an apprentice far earlier than even those whom have been students since I myself was one, or those who were given a teacher at her same time. She may not exceed the intellectual average of the majority of horses who crusade across Legend like they own the place, but perhaps it is because she has a secret sense of knowing and smartness. Though she may not know it herself, just by using my mind, I can sense ultimate potential. But again, I felt her head pounding and I withdrew swiftly, not in any way curious enough to suffer the same savage pains as she was. I furrowed my brow in wonder as to what she hit her head on for such unfathomable pain, but kept my velveteen lips on the down low. She probably would not have the answer anyways, not because of her speech, which I had noticed was a but less than understandable, but because she may not actually know.

The filly was definitely a comical figure, as she flipped her head to the side and watched me with wonder, attempting- and failing miserably, might I add- to repeat my name. I watched her with a glint of amusement in my eye, though the smile that formed on my maw was kind and understanding. Bobbing my head, the obsidian forelock upon my brow swung back and forth as I replied to her slowly enough for her to get, but not too slow (so she would not feel like I was patronizing her). "Call me Hinnie, if you like. It's my name" In fact, there was one young filly, whom I believe had recently turned two, who had called me Hinnie. I missed her dearly, and hoped perhaps we could talk soon, so I could see how she was moving along with life. After all, I had last seen her as a newborn- and when her mother was killed. It was a sad event, but the young one pulled through- whatever this young one was suffering through, I prayed she was as strong as Avaene. She will be.

The grullo's next words were not enough to suffice; they confused me and I was confounded for a few minutes, watching her and trying to read her eyes, her face, to see if I could get at what she meant. Her features displayed nothing but pure canniness, and it was then that it dawned on me. Painted...? Oh, oh. I see. Yes, we are painted the same." Instead of giving the poor girl a lecture on what our colour differences were, I decided to let her be happy in our similarity.

Again, her agonizingly snail-paced movements amused me, though I made no indication of this, and watched her carefully as she inched her way from the midst of the flowers. Her next phrase brought a new smile to my lips, not a laughable one, but a more appreciative expression. For if she cared enough for my flowers, then it proved she had a heart. Her finishing reason, though, made me chuckle slightly. I hadn't felt this happy since... Since Delilah.
Best not to dwell on it now.

"I imagine they would be." I paused, and then thought up a question, "Why does your head hurt? Do you know?"

All because of you,
I believe in angels,
Not the kind with wings;
No, not the kind with halos,
The kind that bring you home,
When home becomes a strange place;
I'll follow your voice,
All you have to do is shout it out!

EARTH III
W O L F
AMBASSADOR