Painted in Flames [Calvariam]

Painted in Flames [Calvariam]

Calvariam Posts: N/A

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#14

12-20-2012, 12:27 AM

Cal|variam

"Youth is wasted."

"Miss flyin', do ya?"

It wasn't as though she was trying to hide the annoyed longing from her eyes, but his obvious assessment of her emotions did nothing but bring a fresh wave of anguish. She was upset, but it wasn't his fault, not really; this Bill person was only standing there, being a natural doofus that had nothing to do with her own age-centered dilemmas. She listened to his question with an angry cock of the ear, then threw her head a little in response.

"You gonna tell me yer real name?" she spat back at him,"I told'er mine." Cal lowered her head and continued to graze for a moment; one of these days he'll get the picture and get to steppin', leaving her to her own devices and keeping the bitter-sweet thoughts out of her brainpan. The way his wings so vividly contrasted to his shadowy body only drew more attention to the way those appendages were admittedly handsomely built, and Cal supposed in her expert opinion that he was a fantastic flier. Which did nothing to quell her suddenly stand-offish demeanor.

*"Come on, I'm sure you can still do it..."*

In rapt response, Cal blew another raspberry through her nose, rolling her eyes in a most insolent manner before returning to her green. The skepticism in her body language was evident. As if! It was such a coltish thought that she would have laughed out loud if she wasn't in such an irritated state. The young had a way of believing anything was possible, but they had no possible way of handling concrete facts and situations. Sometimes, enough hope won't fix everything. Age don't move so well, no matter how bad you wanted it.

But as she continued to stew on his words and the careful plea in his voice, Cal let the notion drop through her defenses and actually gave it some contemplation. The truth was she was terrified of flying-- or rather, of her own fault and defeat of it, even though she had never had any other problems in the air. Age had never affected Cal's flying prowess-- but she had seen others affected by it. Images of senile old bats, taking to the air foolishly in a fit of dementia and being taken by the wind, their brittle bones broken by the force of nature and their own foolhardy yearning for youth--

Cal shook herself some, waving away those darker, horrifying images that had plagued her for some time. There was no turning back the clock. Eventually Cal would succumb to those bouts of dementia, and long ago she had decided to abandon the air and the naive idea that she could handle it, to save herself the worry and pain that might accompany her in the future years. You're not that old yet, though, a small voice reasoned in her mind, you still have good sense of right and wrong, and your mind's still sharp. It's a phsyical problem you've got right now, and girl, that ain't really no thing, is it?

Cal had leaned to one side, her eyes lidded as these thoughts flitted through her mind. At that moment, the breeze had decided to pick up; it tousled what was left of her mane, slipping its way through the long, tangled cords of her tail and ruffling her feathers. Clouds had appeared in the sky; they obscured the now-golden sun, allowing small shoots of its brilliant rays peek through as they traveled amongst the heavens. It truly wasn't a bad day for flying. Cal suddenly threw "Bill" a cautious, calculating look that had the slightest hint of a plea.

"You think?"

"I'm about to clean bust my ass..."