Flying is hard.

Originally I started out trying to follow Father. It looked like he had come this way, but of course, his wings carrying him so much faster than mine do (skill not withstanding). I am envious of how his wings burn at all times. Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate the warm glow that the underside of my wings give off but ... It just seems to pale in comparison. What are a few burning embers compared with a raging fire? Perhaps I am merely projecting my insecurities onto this superficial trait, but it's so easy to do. Father is a powerhouse of muscle, skill, and magic. He even has Mara. Mother is the same, but in her own way. She is stronger than most give her credit for, and I fear that I am the opposite. They all think I am stronger than I in fact am. The child of the Transcended and the WildFire, surely he must be as strong as they. But look at him, nearly dead at birth, with wings that look like fading ash with a few embers, rather than the blazing fire of his Father. I am a desaturated amalgamation of my parents, and I fear I have received none of their best traits.

If I'm being dramatic do forgive me; I don't know who I am supposed to be yet.

I decide to land. I'm near where that bird-woman was I think. Maybe I will find another maze, maybe I will learn what she meant by being brave. Maybe I'll find Father? Like I said, I thought I saw him come through here. Up ahead however, I see a shape that is decidedly not Father. She is small, like Mother, but is covered in shades of purple and darkness. I am drawn to her hopelessly because of her beauty. I'm not at the age where her beauty stirs anything physical inside of me, but I an enraptured none the less, and want to be near whatever it is that she seems to exude.

I know nothing of the rivalry between the Moon and the Sun, perhaps if I did I would not be here. Or perhaps I would say something other than, "...You're beautiful." It's a whisper, and I don't even think I notice that I've actually said anything. What I do notice is that I've suddenly come to a halt just behind a tree, half in the circle she's created, and half without.

"Excuse me, it's just ..." I hopelessly begin, then, recalling my manners, conclude: "Hello."

---

Rhoa is just being awkward.
Wishlist

:: [Magic: FirexWind | Able to beat his wings and throw hot embers and ash. The ash has the potential to cause blurred vision, or difficulty breathing if inhaled.]
:: [Restrictions | Limited to a radius of 10ft..]

No previous refusals.