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09-20-2015, 08:46 AM
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
If Nyx is, for a second, almost jealous—well, Mauja is permanently so.
But let's not talk about that.
Instead, let's talk about the white shadow drifting through the Edge, fog playing around his sturdy legs, eyes darting this way and that. Let's talk about the red blood twinkling like tiny diamonds from the pin-pricks on his withers, their matching twins glittering upon the talons of an owl just as pale as he—(basically, a poetic interpretation of Mauja's whimsical wandering through the Edge, and his eldest owl's playful flight around him.)
Nothing quite like nearly dying to re-instate ones' appreciation of life. Irma twirled through the air, darting this way and that, movement causing her blood to course swiftly through her veins, healing, healing, healing, but as with all things that have narrowly avoided a violent demise she grew tired more quickly than she should.
The price of healing, Mauja simply told her, taking comfort in the familiar weight settling upon his shoulders, and barely noticing the pricking sensation of fresh blood being drawn next to the old and black.
Diego was off somewhere else, hunting mice in a clearing. His thoughts were distant and drawn, but each time Mauja ventured near his soul he responded with warmth.
The younger owl was finicky, in his own ways, crippled by the weight of Mauja's fragile psyche and hiding behind a wall of amused arrogance.
It seemed a repetition of Mauja's younger self, but the sun-warm heart behind the walls of ice had them melting. Give him another year or two, and Mauja suspected Diego would be one adorable ball of fluff and love.
Diego told him it was not very likely, but it had little bite to it, and Mauja laughed.
So, yes. He laughed, out of thin air, as he walked into the path of Nyx and Ruairi, an owl still as a statue sitting upon his scarred withers.
Hello, welcome to the madhouse.
His laugh tapered off, ears flicking. Now what had he gotten himself into? Here Nyx had—hopefully—brought a respectable Pegasus mare into their home, and Mauja walked out of the woodwork, laughing at nothing they knew anything about.
Well, first impressions are supposed to be great, right? It took effort not to snort and sigh at himself. Queen Mauja, the one who hardly needed company because he could talk to himself!
Well, his owls, but who the fuck knew about that.
"Hello," he called flippantly to them, blue eyes twinkling as he resisted the urge to caper around and laugh. (Get a fucking grip on yourself, moron.) But it was so tempting, to just not give a single shit about anything, and do what he pleased, and, well, scare off cute little mares. Which would be bad. Slowly, he shifted towards them, thoughtless grace causing his head to rise as his body re-aligned itself. The red dun seemed a bit thin and leggy still; Nyx soft as silver, instead of iron-hard.
Or was it just the light?
"Who may you be?" he asked—kindly, his voice light and gentle, his eyes bright, smile merry—the stranger, hoping she would not.. well, what? He didn't even know what the fuck was going on, but he wanted to run and prance with them and leap off the Edge and fucking soar—
Bad idea, Mauja. Bad idea.
[ say hi to mister derp .. @Nyx @Ruairi -- want a rank change? ^^ ]
But let's not talk about that.
Instead, let's talk about the white shadow drifting through the Edge, fog playing around his sturdy legs, eyes darting this way and that. Let's talk about the red blood twinkling like tiny diamonds from the pin-pricks on his withers, their matching twins glittering upon the talons of an owl just as pale as he—(basically, a poetic interpretation of Mauja's whimsical wandering through the Edge, and his eldest owl's playful flight around him.)
Nothing quite like nearly dying to re-instate ones' appreciation of life. Irma twirled through the air, darting this way and that, movement causing her blood to course swiftly through her veins, healing, healing, healing, but as with all things that have narrowly avoided a violent demise she grew tired more quickly than she should.
The price of healing, Mauja simply told her, taking comfort in the familiar weight settling upon his shoulders, and barely noticing the pricking sensation of fresh blood being drawn next to the old and black.
Diego was off somewhere else, hunting mice in a clearing. His thoughts were distant and drawn, but each time Mauja ventured near his soul he responded with warmth.
The younger owl was finicky, in his own ways, crippled by the weight of Mauja's fragile psyche and hiding behind a wall of amused arrogance.
It seemed a repetition of Mauja's younger self, but the sun-warm heart behind the walls of ice had them melting. Give him another year or two, and Mauja suspected Diego would be one adorable ball of fluff and love.
Diego told him it was not very likely, but it had little bite to it, and Mauja laughed.
So, yes. He laughed, out of thin air, as he walked into the path of Nyx and Ruairi, an owl still as a statue sitting upon his scarred withers.
Hello, welcome to the madhouse.
His laugh tapered off, ears flicking. Now what had he gotten himself into? Here Nyx had—hopefully—brought a respectable Pegasus mare into their home, and Mauja walked out of the woodwork, laughing at nothing they knew anything about.
Well, first impressions are supposed to be great, right? It took effort not to snort and sigh at himself. Queen Mauja, the one who hardly needed company because he could talk to himself!
Well, his owls, but who the fuck knew about that.
"Hello," he called flippantly to them, blue eyes twinkling as he resisted the urge to caper around and laugh. (Get a fucking grip on yourself, moron.) But it was so tempting, to just not give a single shit about anything, and do what he pleased, and, well, scare off cute little mares. Which would be bad. Slowly, he shifted towards them, thoughtless grace causing his head to rise as his body re-aligned itself. The red dun seemed a bit thin and leggy still; Nyx soft as silver, instead of iron-hard.
Or was it just the light?
"Who may you be?" he asked—kindly, his voice light and gentle, his eyes bright, smile merry—the stranger, hoping she would not.. well, what? He didn't even know what the fuck was going on, but he wanted to run and prance with them and leap off the Edge and fucking soar—
Bad idea, Mauja. Bad idea.
[ say hi to mister derp .. @Nyx @Ruairi -- want a rank change? ^^ ]
man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same
