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01-05-2015, 06:25 PM
 “Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.”
― Leonardo da Vinci White-clad legs dance across the forest floor in a prance that felt almost as if i was flying. Morrigan's song playing through my mind, giving my trot a light step i've not had in a long time. Soon...soon i will have to find her. Apologize, beg if i must, if she would even hear me. I speed through the forest, dancing through trunks and bounding over bushes. Oh what a delight this was, the only thing missing was the beauty of the world's song, of the Sacre. But... i could tolerate it. Here, here i could forge my own songs for the plants and wind and sky and earth. A fallen log comes into view through the misty morning, and i leap over it as gracefully as a deer... and nearly hit a pale mare i hadn't seen until i was in the air. My eyes flew wide open, wings snapping out and churning the air, creating just enough drag, enough force, to keep me from colliding into the smaller horse. "Ah! I beg pardon, i didn't see you!" I quickly back up, my rump hitting the log. 'Oh look at the Morningstar all flustered. Maybe you should watch your step next time, Prancer.' Buce hisses in my mind, and for a moment i am frozen as he fights for control, to take away my freedom. For now i am the stronger one, and i shove him to the depths of my mind. I focus my attention on the mare, and i'm struck dumb by her beauty. She rivals even Her in beauty, and i duck my head. "My name is.." Shit. He cackles at my fumbling thoughts. He outsmarted me from the beginning; I had to give his name instead of my own. If i gave a different name to everyone i met it would arouse suspicion, something the both of us feared although we had different methods of coping with it. "My name is Bucephalus. Are you new to Helovia?" I question, ears and eyes focused on her. And her wings. Or...well... damn this was eerie. I'd never seen a pegasus with wings behind the ears. I strongly doubted she could fly with those, in fact i was downright positive. Pity rose in my breast, but i dared not to let her see. None took kindly to being pitied. "Bucephalus thinks" "Altan speaks" |
Image by Aud
Coding by Tamme
Pixel by Aud
