What could have been

the Rift

[OPEN] What could have been

Rhoa Posts: 175

Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6.5

Colt :: Pegasus :: 17hh :: 3 HP: 65 | Buff: ENDURE

Odd

#17

11-27-2014, 04:13 PM

For the briefest of moments I don't want to take her back to the Throat. In the Throat I am someone. I have responsibilities and expectations, deadlines and projects. People know my name and expect things from me. There I am a Prince, son of Sohalia and Gaucho. But here ... Here I am just Rhoa, and right now that's all I want to be. I could stay trapped in this moment forever, I think. The word of the bird-lady mean nothing, bravery means nothing, and I don't miss Ivezho. Everything is okay, and right. I have a friend, and right now it feels like that's all I'll ever need.

I won't ever leave her.

She asks me a question and before I can think of an answer, she is singing. I don't know the words either, but I feel like I do. Can I sing? Probably not. I don't try; I'm just content to listen to the sounds as they fall from her lips.

We're both moving steadily, and it almost feels like flying because I'm not really paying attention. It's almost like floating. But then I hear her say something, but I don't catch the words - I was too busy listening to the rhythmic thud of our hooves on the ground, and mentally kick myself for missing it. It is then that I realize I've forgotten all about her question, "what it's like".

"You'll love it. I promise." I reply, thinking she means "what is the Throat like". It occurs to me briefly that I shouldn't promise such a thing, but I ignore it. The Throat is amazing, there was nothing not to like. Of course I was unaware of the politics that were currently happening, which if they didn't bother me I couldn't see them bothering Spice either.

As we get closer, my speed slows. The Heart has slowly been left behind us, and the ground no longer pulses with the heat from the caves. Instead the area has flattened and grows slightly sandier. Ahead the sea begins to break and churn. It makes me feel small and insignificant to see it now, but I am perhaps unjustifiably proud to show it to Spice. The sandy shores of the Throat are visible but still appear rather hazy in the frosty air. A breeze ruffles my feathers as I tuck my wings back against my sides, and look at Spice.

"Beautiful." I almost whisper as my gaze falls deeply into hers. Maybe she'll think I was talking about the sea.

Then again, maybe I wasn't.