Hearth

The day is ending and the colors are softening all around me, blurring into the night just as the land below is but a smudge in my sights as I fly above it. Cold air brushes againgst me and my breath is a hot bed of mist but I remain indifferent to either plight; neither the growing darkness or the cold disturbs me. They are nothing new to me and so I have no worries. Rather, I am invigorated by the chill of the air and relish somewhat in the thought of the rest to come. If I am to be truthful , I haven't thought of much lately. I've traveled through a few cycles of the sun with hardly a moments respite on land to recall, egged on by my urgent need of flight. My selfish need of flight, you could say. Numerous lands have come under my wings and left in my shadow and I have not felt the barest thread of curiosity but the solemn command of going onwards to the horizon, ever on, never stopping. What is one land to another? I am a creature of sky.

Oh, but I betray myself. Deny I can try but I am sad things have turned out the way that they have. Wings make me a creature of sky but another part of me is bonded in soil and that soil is far away now, so far away I cannot recount the leagues behind me to reach it. It is likely I'll never return.

In fact, I will not.

In fact, I cannot.

How unfortunate. But I no longer care, if I ever did. What is done is done. Now, I am free.


I am gently reminded by my aching wings of the promise of rest I made, the cold making them desperate, nagging children as frost grew on the outline of my dark feathers. I gaze down at the world of pine and redwood with a renewed interest, a slow exhale smoking from my nostrils as I glide nearer to the tree tops, soothly entering through the canopy and landing unceremoniously onto the snow-covered forest floor. The view from the ground is strange after such a long flight and the feeling of weight in my legs stranger still but welcomed relief all the same. I take the opportunity to stretch each of my limbs and shake myself for the heck of it, smiling as I did so before munching at the snow to quench my almost unbearable thirst. By now night had snuffed out all the light to be had save for that of the moon, which shined brightly from above and reflected off the snow, making it seem luminescent in its own right. Briefly, I give my new surroundings look over, indulging my curiosity for the moment and shrugged, finding myself unimpressed enough this place was completely foreign to me. I've seen many forests before. This place was no different.



"blahblahblah." Speaking
"blahblahblah." Thoughts

For flame, for heart