TIBERIUS
THE COLD WINDS HAVE COME BACK TO HAUNT ME. SWADDLING MY AIRBORNE SKELETON IN A COAT OF GOOSEBUMPS. A LONG, FROSTED TAIL FLICKERED IN THE GREAT ANCIENT WIND; DANCING IN ITS CURRENTS. LONG MANE LEAPT FROM HIS BODY, BILLOWING FROM A REGALLY HELD NECK. MY BLACK POINTED LEGS STRUCK THE EVENING SKY, CANTERING STRIDES PROPELLING MY FRAME FORWARD ALONGSIDE THE WINGS ON MY BACK. NOSTRILS SNAPPED UPWARD, TO THE FAMILIAR SCENT OF ASH.
FEAR DULLED THE GLIMMER OF HOPE IN THE STAGS EYES. MY WINGS SNAGGED ON A DOWNDRAFT, AND I PLUMMETED FROM THE SKY. FIERCELY PULLING HIMSELF UPWARDS FROM THE GROUND AND ONTO THE MASSIVE PINE'S BRANCHES. I PERCHED MYSELF ON THE SNOW-BLANKETED BARK; MY EYES RIFFED THE SKY IN SEARCH OF THE MOON, QUICKLY FINDING ITS PRESENCE TO MY LEFT. IT PROVIDED ENOUGH LIGHT TO SEE THE LANDSCAPE, BEHIND HIM THICKLY DRAPED IN FOLIAGE, MOSTLY TALL, PRONG TOPED PINES. WHICH START START TO THIN AHEAD OF ME. CAUSING HIGHLY VISIBLE GAPS IN THE CANOPY, AND ABRUPTLY STOPPING.
WHY DOES THE FOREST STOP? I THOUGHT, WE ARE MUCH TOO FAR NORTH FOR PLAINS.. AND IT IS TOO MOIST TO BE A TUNDRA.
I LEAPT FROM THE BRANCH, GLIDING ACROSS THE THINNED FOREST, AND TO A SMALLER, FLIMSIER TREE CLOSER TO HE EMPTY SPACE.
THERE IT LAY - THE WASTELAND. ITS FOREST BURNT TO A CRISP. IT WAS MORE THAN THE PATH OF A WILDFIRE. THIS WAS HELL ITS BREATHING ITS UGLY, DISGUSTING MORNING-BREATH ALL OVER HELOVIA. EATING UP ANY PIECE OF GOOD LAND IT COULD. THE LAND MUST BE SICK WITH DEMONS. INFESTED, EATING ALIVE THE VERY SOULS THAT PLAN TO LIVE HERE.
MY TRIBE TAUGHT ME MUCH OF HE GREAT KINGDOM OF HELOVIA. ELDERS DESCRIBING IT AS A LAND OF HOPE. ITS LUSH FORESTS, PERFECT FOR NESTING, AND ITS STRONG CONNECTION TO THE GODS.
"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED HERE?" I MUTTERED UNDER MY BREATH.
HAD I COME TO THE WRONG PLACE? DID THE ELDERS LIE - WHY WOULD MY GRANDMOTHER LIE?
UTTERLY CONFUSED, I LEAPED FROM THE TREE, MY LONG, SHAKING BLACK LEGS LANDING IN A CLOUD OF ASH, AND STARTED TO INVESTIGATE THE GROUNDS.
walk the walk
"talk the talk."
OOC :: SORRY FOR THE SHITTY POST - HIS MUSE WILL START ROLLING WHEN I HAVE SOMETHING TO REPLY TO c:
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