Circling Wings Hold Steady On The Rising Thermals.

"I'm not ready to leave this life", the impuned ascender cried.
"My child, you have never been more ready, more nearer to the truth", whispered the phantasmic lifting foal. Her hooves cut her clothes, the awkward antlers stabbed her shoulders crying and begging release. "My child, you forlorn beast of the caged fools, you must come with me. I have been ordered to rip you away with blinding force from whence you stride, from whence you came, dear.
They traveled horizontally and at angles of time not understood by the lemming and sheep of what she was made. They punished the decriers of the flat-world fact and discarded the bodies of the idealist into the briars, leaving them bleeding for the vultures.
"My dear, you will like it where I am taking you. It may not happen at once. In fact, it may take a millenia, but you will begin to realize once you awaken that the life you once had in stone was nothing more than fiction - a fast fact of rumoring tyrants leading you down a path of blindness and automation. I have come here to help you grow wings and mold your sight into light once blinding, now to create clarity where you once had shadows."
the asceding lifted muttered nothing. She only looked skyward, feeling the atmosphere thin, her breath quickened. The white spots on the foal fur flickered in the moonlit stratoshpere. Her cloven hooves then, grasped her with the softness of ferns.