Information



Ruuna
Legacy Name: Lirim


The Nostalgic Legeica
Owner: chemicalbroccoli

Age: 7 years, 2 months, 4 weeks

Born: January 27th, 2017

Adopted: 3 years, 9 months, 1 week ago

Adopted: July 13th, 2020

Statistics




Ruuna's carousel was one of the first five in the world to be installed, and it wasn't just like any other animal on display.

It was the favorite.

Ruuna knew it was special the first time a child rode on its back. The girl was dressed in red velvet with white lace trim. Her fingers were still sticky from the ice cream cone her grandparents had purchased. The old couple stood at the side as the platform spun round and round. The girl leaned down to whisper secrets in Ruuna's ear, telling what she hoped Santa would bring her and confiding that she had been the one to break her mother's porcelain platter. She was the first of thousands of precious riders. They would wait in line and pout if they had to settle for the zebra or the tiger or the giraffe. Every child wanted the magical horse.

I simply must have it, Daddy. It's like magic. I know it can hear everything I say.

Ruuna survived the brutal blasts of two world wars and the craze of new and improved roller coasters with twists and turns and electric motors. Still, the children came every summer to pat its head and hug their arms around its neck. Even when half the carnival land was sold for a new development, somehow the local residents banded together to save their precious carousel. It seemed like the horse's days of glory would never end.

Sadly, nothing lasts forever.

Its paint had begun to chip and fade until most of the glossy coat was gone. The brass pole that held the horse in place grew tarnished and dull. When the fuse box that moved the ride blew out one day, half a dozen dissatisfied children went away with half-hearted mutters of annoyance. The man with the little red toolbox did not come to do repairs.

Ruuna stared with empty eyes at the man in the civil uniform who came to tack a condemned sign on the carnival gates. A single tear fell from the noble horse's eye, leaving another weather-worn streak in the paint on its cheek. For years, what remained of the carnival sat abandoned.

Then came the day when the chains on the gate were taken down. An old man with a heart for forgotten places had bought the lot, intent on seeing it restored. The painters made their rounds, detailing flames on the sides of the roller coaster cars and giving new life to the Ferris Wheel. They came to the carousel when the sun was setting. The tiger looked fierce with its black and orange stripes. The unicorn's golden horn shone like sunlight on a bumper again. They saved Ruuna for last. One of the men in overalls squinted at the worn soldier of childhood dreams. He had only been two when he'd leaned over to kiss the horse's mane.

What do you say we save this one for tomorrow boss? If you ask me, the boss ought to just pay for a new horse to be made. This thing is downright creepy.

A pudgy finger traced the line of the tear track. The painters packed away their supplies in their truck and hurried away from the lot to seek dinner. They never returned. The old man in overalls had died peacefully on his bed that night. His money was eaten up paying his debts, leaving nothing for his pet projects.

The chains on the gates returned. Only a strong wind could move the carousel now. The rotations were sporadic and slow. Every few minutes, Ruuna's empty eyes would fall on the bulldozers parked out in the rain, awaiting the morning sun. No human heard the ominous creak that broke the silence of the night. The haunting sound of clopping hooves sounded in the streets of the dying town, giving the old folk asleep in their beds pleasant dreams of a simpler time when candy bars were only a dime and there was no greater joy than to feel the rough wood of a carousel seat under one's legs.

credits:

profile template by piers.
story by Pureflower

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