Emma curls in her bed as she listens to the snores of the sleeping horses. She felt more at home here than at her actual home. It calms her overwhelming senses, since her actual home is now taken over by her aunt, uncle, and Colm. She tried to sleep but Emma's mind was more hyper-focus on her father's book and the light show that happened.

     What was that display? Did I do that and if I did how? Emma's mind wonders as she flips through the pages of the old book. She couldn't wrap her head around it. The book or journal as it says on the cover was nothing Emma had seen before.

     The journal shows sketches of drawings of different species of horses and creatures that Emma had never heard of. She couldn't wrap her brain around it. If this so-called journal was real, why does the book act as a field guide to something out of this world?

     She scoffed at the names of these creatures. "Listen to this Wings," She tells her yearling who was just below her hay loaf bed. "Get a load of this. Citrustacks; fluffy colorful haystack creatures that love to clean. Man, wouldn't that be nice?" She flipped a page. "Oh, how about this? Tassel mice: small mice with long tassel-like tails." Shaking her head, Emma reads on.

     "Tomtommes: blue mice with horns for ears and a ball at the end of their tails who love to make music from their ears." Flips more pages. "Finlings: a green-scaled creature with mermaid-like tails that could dive deep in reefs looking for pearls." Emma tries to hold in her laugh. "This is unreal. Who writes this kind of stuff?" The sounds of flipping pages ripples the air through the quite barn.

     It was there she found the wild horses. Some had wings, while others grew horns and tails for fins. So, this was North of North. Emma never in her wildest dreams that these were what the horses her father told her about looked like. She even found the four legendary horses, but they were not what younger Emma thought they were. She remembers the drawings she used to draw of them but these sketches of them were far off than she could ever imagine.

     It was then her breath caught in her throat. The page she landed on was an image of a pale gold winged horse with glimmering wings. His neck and hindquarters were dappled in a darker yellow and his eyes were deep brown. On his flank, a marking of a orchid, the symbol her father once said was her family's flower.

     Written above the equine was his name: Valkrist. Why does that name stand out to her so much?

     Blinking away the overwhelming exhaustion from her eyes, Emma glances over at her watch and noticed the time. 2 am. I need to get some rest before dawn to take care of the horses. She thinks to herself knowing of what little sleep she will restive tonight.

     Sighing, Emma puts her book on her dresser, and rolls over in her bed, letting her mind rest. Hugging her pink winged horse plush brought her at ease as the peaceful oblivion takes over her.

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Emma's Pajamas