~ Piggy's Dreams ~

[Pigxels]

The sand faded away as the sun set on his past
A long road ahead to the far off swamp, vast
The stories of home he brought to begin
But none back home would hear him again

And although the swamp was large and warm
It never filled the hole of where he was born
So stories he told them of the hot sands
And stories he told them of other far lands

A weird little jester with not so good jokes
But a whole head of tales to spill for the folks
He'd been all over and had a grand time
With story after story and rhyme after rhyme

He made friends best though, with the dark and eerie
Scary tales were his favorite when leaving one leery
One late eve, he came upon a spider
And brought it home with love and hot fire

Witches were friends, and taught him their tales
And he learned all about the fairies and vales
Combined with the scary stories he told
His newfound favorite was myths to unfold

One day he hoped to return to his sands
To see his family, friends, and all the merry bands
So he could share all that he heard in the swamp
About the festivals, the fun, and all his good romps

About his new spiders and his home by the willow
About the cave-dwellers in their caves down below
About the fairy hut he made with a friend
And about the garden he helped her to tend

But alas the Ache had pinned him down now
A sad storyteller with nowhere to prowl
Stuck in one place with all the stories he held
And fear he might never feel the hole inside quelled.

[Pigxels]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... htlost.gif[/imgleft]






A blunder, a trip, a fall... Slipping down the grassy hillside, and traveling farther and farther though the black mesh of lightless void. Farther and farther, until a sloppy roll at the bottom, and into a tree. Dazed, confused, and wide-eyed, trying desperately to see.

Without an answer, there is fumbling, and a careful foot placed upon the ground in such a way that there might yet be another hillside. Just an inch away. Just a slight chance of another mystery fall. One may not be so lucky next time. One may next time stumble over a cliff's unforgiving edge.

[Pigxels]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... cfever.gif[/imgleft]




Among the trees, in a flower-filled area, a colorful sister crunches through weeds, searching for something. The sky is clear, and sunlight glows between the branches and moss hanging above, adding beautiful rays down through the flowers.

Some come. Sick, limping, moaning. With a hoof, he grinds a few of the flowers together on a flat stone, and hands it to the ailing kin.

More come. Several now, his name spreading among the trees. The sister returns, holding a branch of something, and gives him another mixture of vines and leaves to cure an illness.

He looks to the west. Past their medicine home, he aches to explore. But farther and farther he goes, until he himself feels the ailing ill, and he returns home to his sister, puzzling, wondering. "I think I'm ill with a fever," he says to her, "perhaps from the warm weather."

[Pigxels]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... cicles.gif[/imgleft]


The shimmering frozen crystal glistened in the bright sunlight behind it, beckoning. The tiny doe manages to rise to her shaking legs, and stumble over, staring at it in awestruck fixation. Slowly, carefully, she sticks her tongue out, delicately tapping it with the tip for a quick taste, but finds no flavor at all aside from a very bitter sting.

Shocked by the, at first, pleasurable cold, she jerks away as it slowly grows into piercing, throbbing pain. Unfortunately, her tongue is stuck; glued to the side and clearly not coming off anytime soon. She glances here and there for help and tries to call out, but no one is there. Dejectedly, she holds still and watches her tongue, slowly feeling numb, afraid and unsure of what to do.

Finally it comes to her. She cheers up and then instead of pulling away, places her whole mouth over the jagged monstrosity, clamping her teeth down and jerking her neck to break it off. A loud crack. A few cold teeth. And then the whole thing came down. She kept it in her mouth long enough for the ice to completely melt around her tongue, and then she licked her lips awkwardly trying to get feeling back into her mouth. "I did it," she says, eyeing another icicle. "I know how to defeat it now."

[Pigxels]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... arglow.gif[/imgleft]




The shining stars twinkled far above. Still water met the sky and made an endless expanse around Starglow, the small rock she sat on the only sign of land. She looked above and below, and couldn't tell the difference between sky and water. The strange feeling of floating overwhelmed her.

She dipped her nose down to stare at what she noticed was a reflection of herself below her, but that there was none like this from above. She lowered her nose back down curiously and tapped it, watching the ripple spread far and wide. It started small. Then expanded until the edge of the world was revealed to her where the sky did not ripple.

A single falling star shone above, gliding from one side of the edge of the world to the other, and shining in the water below. One star made two. 

[Pigxels]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... relily.gif[/imgleft]




Searing hot sands and equally blistering sun shine down on the red fur of the doe. Nothingness in every direction expands to the beyonds to a swamp on one side, and a field on the other. Ahead lies the mountains. Where she stands is no-man's-land, a space of nothing owned by no one. It's not even a real place in and of itself; a figment of the hot sun and dry air.

Where does she go? She aims herself to the swamp, intrigued by trees, a bright red and orange flower of the desert. A traveler; free to make her own choices. Something feels wrong about the swamp. Something restricting. But there is also an allure to the beautiful desert flower, and she feels a growing fire in her belly full of curiosity into the trap that is the swamp... Never now will she leave and travel again out side its bounds.

[Pigxels]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... ystery.gif[/imgleft]




"Remember," a voice rang out from everywhere and nowhere at once, "silence is sometimes the answer. Silence tells you everything. Silence... isn't silent. Listen. Words others say and lessons they learn will one day help you. The words of others do not always demand words of yours. You avoid pain. You avoid the chance of death in dangerous situations in which you must be silent and hide, because you are then already prone to silence. Silence is your family and friend. It is your cave to hide in. It shelters you from danger, words, and thoughts of others that may sting. Silence is mysterious to the enemy. You must be mysterious. Be mysterious, and those who hunt you will not find tracks to chase."

She concluded that's what she would be. The less someone knew of her, the better. The more she knew of everyone else, the better. She would shade herself in questions and be untraceable. One day it would cover her backside.

[Pigxels]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... oflife.gif[/imgleft]


With blackness in every direction, the glittering lights lit up one by one in front of her nose, illuminating less than a foot in front of themselves. A trail of them, dancing lightly in place hovering just above the swampy floor. She stared wide-eyed at first, and then decided to rise, slowly walking toward them into the blackness.

She followed it, farther and farther until she stood before a massive tree somewhere in the center of the swamp. It hummed to her, almost speaking, and told her that she would be guardian of those who lived here. It lit up in firefly light, and the tree seemed to open one large bark-surrounded eye at her, glowing orange and ominous. "You will be the Spark of Life that will keep this section of swamp safe. Every creature, every insect, and every plant. You will become its healer, it's protector. You are born of my roots and bark, and are the heart of all fireflies who light your way. Be one with the world."

Its voice faded, and its eye closed, and she stood at the base of its massive twisting roots, pondering. She knew what she was then, and what she must do. It was so simple. A tiny fluttering creature fluttered down to her, and landed on her rump. She turned to the creature curiously. It spoke then, saying "we will meet one day, and I will help guide you." Then it fluttered back up into the branches. Spark looked on and then understood her name. She was the Spark of Life of the swamp by this tree. She was born of it, and she would become one with it again one day. She smiled, and the world began to fade back into darkness, until the first ray of light shined down through her sac, and she opened her orange, glowing eyes to the growing world around her.

[Pigxels]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/images/blue/ink.gif[/imgleft]




The twinkling stars wander by, ever shifting shape and confusing him. Around in all else was nothing but blackness. He cried out, but heard only the echo of a strange place returning to him, calling out the way he had initially before something warm and soft stroked his cheek. He quiets himself and watches the strange, pretty lights. They begin to melt, merging into one mass of blinding color, and he looks slightly away, bewildered, as the inky mass swirls and pools around his feet. He is one with it, a thing he concludes is also himself, staring down at his own spots of light along his body which seem to follow everywhere he goes. He sighs, uncomfortable but beginning to calm under the warm nudge of a nose, and stills himself to peace. The ink of colors whorling and twisting into more and more shapes.

[Pigxels]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... etaken.gif[/imgleft]





The cruel words spout forth from nowhere, surrounding by a million little particles of hate. They itch and sting, but she tries to fight it off in agonized rage, but only finds herself farther and farther away. Acceptance is nothing she wants now; she simply wants to get back, get even, get mad. A million and one little ideas that sprout black ooze from her mouth that pools and prickles like spikes, reaching out and sticking hooves to them, climbing up legs, and suffocating noses. Revenge was all she needed, the pleasure of the pain of others that crossed her path. No more apologies, no more sorrow. All around is the ever-present feel of her kin, her brother, the only other being who understands and agrees with her, by her side.

They wouldn't be able to escape forever. Eventually, something always gives.

[Pigxels]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... behalf.gif[/imgleft]





The will to defend this strange kin who he felt such a connection for was almost suffocating, but he forces himself to stand by her side as a mess of garbled, unintelligible jeers are hurled their way, from left and right. Bewildered, he wildly defends her, kicking this way and that, caving a skull or two in rage, and wishing for the taste of blood on his tongue. Above all, he feels a strange confusion; why was this happening? Why was his sister under fire, and why did he feel the need to defend her so? Was it her honor? Was it the strange kinship they shared? He felt the fierce protectiveness looming, and it only darkened his anger and mood. As best he could muster, he howls frighteningly. An empty loneliness and distant fear echoing through the force of his voice as well as his might.

They wouldn't be able to escape forever. Eventually, something always gives.

[Pigxels]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... otless.gif[/imgleft]





The world spread far and wide on either side; an endless maze of paths to take and opportunities. There was always the chance for loss, a feeling of hopelessness and loneliness that blew in on a cold, northern wind. He turns back and looks at his family one last time before leaving the plains, trying something new in the warm and humid air. But before long, he is trapped, feeling the pain in his chest as he cannot bear to stay in one place; a plant whose roots finally chose to dig deep down underground, and anchor him in place. It is sharp, and it cuts and pierces his soft skin.

He is unwilling, and looks out far while the twisting vines curl and snake around his hooves and legs, binding him down while he wails out in agony. There must be some way out of this place; if only for a little while. He would chase until he could chase no more to find a way. The world must be seen.

[Pigxels]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... fdeath.gif[/imgleft]




The white, hard thing seemed to make a sound, though it was alien and unfamiliar. The noises it made were senseless, and he leaned in closer to hear what it was telling him to no avail. Something clung to it, an awful thing that seemed to whirl around and envelope his entire being, an awful thing that made him fear and his hair stand on end. He eyed the strange, white thing, and listened closely, trying to understand the unnerving squealing it produced, but couldn't place why it intrigued him rather than frightening him away. He was afraid, yes, but he was more and more curious.

The strange engulfing sensation whirled around him again and again as each new squeak came, before he realized the thing was talking to him, and must be a friend. Was he a friend of this awful thing? Then friend he would be. He picked up the strange thing, and placed it on his head, smiling widely. They were one, and the squeaking stopped.

[Pigxels]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... waters.gif[/imgleft]



The odd pushing and pulling seemed to drag him under, under something that filled his mouth and tasted foul, swallowing him up and tossing him about. It was a splashing, freezing cold display by something that was violently angry with him, but he had no idea or reason for why. He kicked, agitated by the strange monster that he couldn't seem to touch. He passed in and through it, and no matter how hard he kicked, it wasn't in pain enough to let him go. There would be no surrender, he concluded, and he finally willed himself to calm. Over and over, it pulled him into trickling streams and then dunked him, while he coughed and lost ability to breathe.

The calmer he became, the smoother the strange thing that tried to choke him became, until it settled into a strange reflective pane that pretended to be the forest around it. He blinked, and found the situation odd that such a monster would calm simply because he himself calmed. Perhaps this was a lesson he could use later when meeting another. Perhaps the monster wasn't violently angry so much as annoyed at his own kicking and splashing, the same as he had been toward it.

[Pigxels]

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... ngitch.gif[/imgleft]




Round and round and round he goes, biting and rubbing against tree bark to no avail. This strange prickling, annoying feeling that climbed up his legs and around his back only made things that much worse. He bit at his legs, as the reach was easy, but his rump and back were another story. Nothing could alleviate it, and worse, his legs despite being within range slowly began to hurt the more he tried. The stinging only worsened and climbed up and around his legs farther, stretching to his belly and back legs, and soon his tail began to tingle as well.

The ivy leaves were all around, in a wide circle, and the more he thrashed and tried to scratch himself, the more he exposed himself to the mass of biting leaves. Eventually he stands still, and finds a pool of water nearby that he hadn't noticed before. He dives in, the cool water helping, and he pouts. The stinging itching had not gone away, but at least the cool water had taught him a lesson about looking where he was going, and being alert. Perhaps now, he had become the itch.