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 Talion I halted in my steps, my eyes snapping towards a figure haloed by a cascade of feathers, just in time to keep my composure and not jolt in surprise. Even though I was capable of containing my initial shock, I still felt the discomfort at the tug of heart as my heartbeat augmented. "Hello, sir. I am Spice of the Dragons Throat. You are in Helovia, the land of twisted creatures and sparking dreams." As the feather pride lowered a horse, only a youth by the looks of it, protruded between them. "I would suggest to stay away from the twisted creatures. Ghost, Czarina of the Hidden Falls." Another horse appeared in the night, this one sharing my night-cloaked hide, but seemingly also one of the horsebirds with her wings neatly tucked to her sides. Their sudden appearance gave me little time for individual contemplation. “Spice, Ghost.” I nodded. “Talion of .. Nowhere." A hint of accent framed the guarded undertone coating my words. I could not say I felt like I belonged to one place more than any other, a pang of realization that somehow bothered the longing within me. Twisted creatures indeed, but I could not avoid a profound interest in their selcouth beauty to take hold of me. However, dumbstruck might not have been a big enough word to cover the situation. Until this day I had cast the myth of birdhorses aside as fables and child tales, blatantly ridiculed the ones that had clambered to stories of their existence with belief. I might owe a few people an apology after all. |
